


arya, please

by scrubclub



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gendrya Week 2020, Jealousy, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, i promise there's no love triangle here, is 'record store au' a thing?, it should be, mostly just the usual with these two, not a love triangle in sight just an otp vibing, past Arya/Aegon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrubclub/pseuds/scrubclub
Summary: Arya Stark wants to spend her summer writing about music and earning some money working at the coolest record store in the city (and maybe scoring a date with her handsome, moody, artsy coworker)Arya Stark doesnotwant to spend her summer being the subject of the world's cheesiest love song (written for her by her ex-boyfriend, who doesn't seem to accept that things are over)
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 491
Kudos: 824





	1. track 1

**Author's Note:**

> few things:  
> 1\. this is for gendrya week 2020 day 1: songs & lyrics  
> 2\. it is not done, not even a little bit, and i have no idea how many chapters there will be (but i would guess maybe 3 or 4)  
> 3\. i promise i am working on my other WIPs and having fun doing so!!  
> 4\. i just really liked the gendrya week prompts so i wanted to do something and idk if i'll be able to get any more fics completed this week so i figured i'd get the start of this one up
> 
> this plot is semi stolen from a book i read as a teenager. it was called "audrey, wait" by robin benway and it was about a girl whose ex-boyfriend wrote a song about her and it became a huge hit and she was super annoyed by the attention and just wanted to date the dude she worked with at the (ice cream??) shop. i dont remember literally any other details, but it was a fun story so i stole the concept and am gonna have fun with it :)

She didn’t expect to hear the song more than once, in all honesty. The night it was released, she had been sitting on Arianne’s bed, sipping from a bottle of worryingly cheap vodka that she was sharing with her friends as they talked about - among other things - how very happy they all were to be single. 

Meera had gasped at her phone and held a finger up to silence Arya and Arianne, who exchanged a look as Meera tapped her phone and shut her eyes with anticipation as she waited for her discovery to load. 

It started with a casual strum of a guitar. Then, his voice. 

_“This one’s for you.”_

Arya made a face and reached for Meera’s phone, but the taller girl held it away and insisted that they listen to the whole thing. 

It was awful - a poorly thought out mix of pop and folk, a Frankenstein’s monster made up of easy-listening radio-friendly pop, some try-hard synthy hiphop beats and a few sexy-but-not-sexy-enough-to-be-inappropriate-for-preteens love songs. 

The lyrics were riddled with clichés and the melody reminded Arya of about twenty songs she had heard before, though Aegon’s somehow sounded uniquely bad. 

The chorus, though, was the worst bit. 

_Arya, please, don’t run away from love/_   
_Just because the seas are getting rough/_   
_We belong together, not apart/_   
_Arya, please, let me tame your wild heart_

It was unforgivably corny. It somehow managed to sound both whiny and upbeat. It was totally demeaning. And it included her _fucking_ name. Twice! 

She found comfort in the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to hear it again. And in the fact that there was still plenty of vodka.

Arya had dated Aegon Targaryen for four months. They had hooked up at a mutual friend’s New Year’s Eve party - he had blue hair and told Arya he liked the stud in her nose. Arya had just spent two weeks with her family and their rich friends over the holidays and was thrilled to be face-to-face with a boy who didn’t part his hair down the middle with a fine-tooth comb. Sure, Aegon’s family was also unfathomably wealthy, but Aegon didn’t look like he’d fit in with the other rich boys and Arya had never fit in with Sansa and her fellow socialites. They were on the same page in that sense. 

He was the first guy Arya had ever slept with and the first real boyfriend she had ever had. Sansa had squealed when Arya told her that things between herself and Aegon were official and had offered Arya a hundred unwarranted pieces of advice on how to keep him. Catelyn had approved, too, though Arya figured that might have been because he had washed the blue dye out of his hair by the time they officially met. 

Aegon was handsome and charming and even though the blue hair had been temporary, he was confident and cool in a way that Arya had never been able to achieve. He smoked cigarettes and had a tattoo of a dragon on his bicep and his eyes were an impossible shade of violet-blue. Aegon went to more parties that Arya could keep track of and at first, it had been fun to get drunk on stranger’s couches with him, listening to him announce his plans for when he made it big - Arya could tour with him and write reviews of each of his shows, inspiring him to write the world’s greatest love songs along the way.

Dating Aegon was thrilling until it wasn’t. He liked the idea of being an _artist_ , which meant that he would occasionally kiss her without warning and press her to the wall, telling her how desperately he needed her. The first few times, it was kind of hot, but when he started interrupting her in the middle of her homework, it grew wearing. He was a full-time musician, and she was trying to get through her first year of university - their schedules were not exactly compatible. 

Each time Arya attended a concert to write a review for the school paper, Aegon grew more and more jealous, seemingly annoyed that Arya listened to music that wasn’t _his_. He got moody when she didn’t offer him “productive” feedback on his songs and he got even moodier if she dared to offer anything close to a critique. Once, he picked a fight with her about her most recent article and, after his apology and a round of make-up sex, he had grinned at her and thanked her, because he always did his best writing after his best fucking (his words). 

The break up had blindsided him, though Arya wasn’t quite sure why. She had been avoiding staying over at his place for weeks and she had stopped pretending to like the demos he sent her. He had pleaded with her to stay, to try to make it work. 

“No one has ever been a better muse for me, Arya,” Aegon had insisted, “You’ve inspired my most groundbreaking work.” Arya had resisted the urge to roll her eyes at this - Aegon still had only a few thousand subscribers on YouTube and was hardly in a place to be calling any of his music ‘groundbreaking’. 

“I’m not a muse,” she had sighed, annoyed. “I’m just a girl.”

“You’re my girl, though.” He had taken his hands in hers, eyes pleading. They shone desperately through his lashes and his white blond hair framed his face perfectly. He was easy to fall for, really. “We’re great together,” Aegon insisted as Arya had pulled her hands back. “Arya, please.” 

-

“Arya, Please” had reached #5 on the charts by the day Arya finished her final exam of her first year of university. She felt as if it was all a cruel joke, really. Some sort of penance for the mistakes she had made in a past life, surely. 

It played in the coffee shops she stopped in on her way to the library. It played on the campus radio that rang through the hallway outside the newspaper office. There was even already some sort of dance remix that had played at a party a few weeks back. 

Sansa thought she was crazy. 

“He wrote a song for you!” Sansa cried as they made their way towards the restaurant where they were meeting their mother for lunch. “And it’s _beautiful_.” Arya rolled her eyes. 

“I didn’t ask him to,” she grumbled. “And it’s shit.” It was, really. Arya didn’t understand how so few people seemed able to acknowledge that it was objectively an awful song. Catchy, sure, but not good and certainly not _beautiful_.

“I think he’s earned a second chance,” Sansa said matter-of-factly, earning herself another eyeroll. “Oh, Arya, please - oops, I didn’t mean to,” Sansa giggled at her poor choice of words as Arya’s scowl deepened, “Really, though, Arya - he’s so hot. You don’t want to wake up in ten years when he’s a famous and successful heartthrob and have to live with the regret of letting him get away. Remember that song about the girl who dumped a guy because she thought he wasn’t good enough but then he gets famous and makes her regret it?” 

Arya did remember the song in question, but she really didn’t think that she’d wake up in ten years and regret walking away from a guy whose one hit single might have ruined the name ‘Arya’ for generations to come. 

-

A lot of people hated it almost as much as Arya did. More people loved it. Either way, _everyone_ had heard “Arya, Please”. There were cutesy articles about how it had breathed new life into the classic love song and cutting think-pieces on how it diminished the subject’s autonomy and agency. There were fan accounts devoted to Aegon and his face popped up on far too many magazine covers. Arya had never been happier with her decision to have her Instagram account set to ‘private’, because she now received almost a dozen follow requests every day, all from absolute strangers. 

It wasn’t fame, but it was something similar. A weird sort of notoriety that left her anonymous to the average passerby, but an intriguing mystery of a woman to anyone curious enough to poke through the ‘Aegon Targaryen’ search engine results. Many people thought she was a heartbreaker, others portrayed her as something of a victim. One publication dubbed the Arya that Aegon sang about “a fresh, seductive muse for pop music” because she had inspired “the catchiest love song since ‘My Featherbed’”. A lot of things that Arya had read about “Arya, Please” were factually incorrect, but none more so than that - “My Featherbed” was a perfect song, an absolute classic that should never be mentioned in the same breath as Aegon’s sappy, try-hard whining. 

-

“Arya, Please” hit #1 on Arya’s first day of work at Houndbite Records. It was pretty much her dream summer job - Houndbite was an iconic music establishment in a seedy-yet-hip area of King’s Landing. Gentrification had not yet turned Fleabottom into an area filled with fancy new cafés and boutique fashion shops, but the neighbourhood had certainly shifted into something a destination for those in the know. 

Houndbite was the sort of place that promoted small artists and local acts, and they carried rare and vintage records that Arya couldn’t find anywhere else. The owner, a rather frightening looking man named Sandor, had raised his eyebrows when Arya had asked if they were looking for help over the summer. When she didn’t shy away from his hardened gaze, he had shrugged and told her she could start whenever. 

Arya did her best to ignore the bus stops advertising Aegon’s face, her name scrawled in faux-messy script over the word ‘Please’. She looked determinedly forward as she walked beneath the train tracks, the bricks of the underpass plastered with posters promoting his upcoming debut album. She smiled when she saw no trace of Aegon Targaryen on the “New Releases” sign taped to Houndbite’s front door. 

The boy behind the desk perked up as the bell rang. He had a round, friendly face and a mop of curly hair and he wore a heavily decorated jean jacket with the sleeves cut off. Another, bright blond head popped out from the back room and grinned. 

“New girl?” the blond asked. The golden hoop in one of his ears almost blended in with the curls that fell just above his shoulders. He strutted forward and held out his hand - his nails were painted a deep green. “Lommy,” he said, shaking Arya’s hand and looking her up and down before grinning - she wasn’t sure what the grin meant, but she hoped it was a positive. “That’s Hot Pie.” He jerked his head to the boy behind the desk, who waved. 

“Actually, my name’s -,”

“Hot Pie,” Lommy interrupted. Hot Pie rolled his eyes and gave Arya a look of exasperation, as if she should have expected this from his colleague. 

“Arya,” Arya said. “Nice to meet you guys.” Hot Pie took a sip of his iced coffee and raised his eyebrows. 

“Like the song?” He asked as he swallowed. The look on Arya’s face was enough to get a laugh out of both boys.

“Yeah, like the song,” she sighed. 

“I bet you fucking hate it by now, hey?” Hot Pie laughed, and Arya nodded glumly. Lommy made a noise of impatience. 

“Don’t tell me you also hate it,” he said, taking a sip of Hot Pie’s coffee. Hot Pie made to say something but Lommy brushed him off. “It’s the undeniable song of the summer! Arya, you should feel blessed. No one is ever gonna write a love song for anyone called _Lommy_.” 

“I was gonna say that there’s milk in that,” Hot Pie said, nodding at his coffee. “You’re gonna feel like shit later.” Lommy scoffed and took another sip.

-

Hot Pie showed Arya the ropes - there was a seemingly infinite supply of records stacked around the store, and Sandor had entrusted the organization of these to his employees. 

“He’s pretty hands off,” Hot Pie explained. “He deals with all the business stuff upstairs and does most of the buying and ordering. Our job is basically just selling music and attempting to organize all of his shit.” He led Arya to a backroom, where the shelves were overflowing with product. 

“Whoa,” Arya breathed, stepping forward and reaching up to grab a cover that had caught her eye. “He’s got the original King’s Men record? Before they changed their name to The Brotherhood?” She flipped it over, scanning the tracklist. Her dad had owned this on cassette and played it all the time when she was younger - it was probably gathering dust somewhere in Winterfell’s attic now. Hot Pie was beaming at her when she looked up. 

“You’ll fit in here, I think,” he said, before Lommy called them back into the store. 

-

“If I stay here, I will die,” Lommy said. He _did_ look awfully clammy and uncomfortable. “I’ve just spent twenty minutes in the toilet. That milk has taken me out.” He glanced miserably over at Hot Pie’s iced coffee.

“You’re an idiot,” Hot Pie said. He looked at Arya. “He’s lactose intolerant, but he always does this.” 

“It was lovely to meet you, Arya, really,” Lommy said in earnest, ignoring Hot Pie’s comment, “but if I don’t go home right now, we will all regret it.” 

“I’ve got to train her!” Hot Pie cried as Lommy grabbed his bag from behind the desk. “We need someone on cash!” 

“Gendry’s coming in,” Lommy said. “Said he’s getting lunch with Barra but he can cover the afternoon and teach the new girl how to close up.” 

“How’d you get him to agree to that?” Hot Pie asked, bewildered by this development. 

“Told him the new girl was hot,” Lommy said, winking at Arya, who felt her cheeks burn as she flipped two fingers in Lommy’s direction, earning an unapologetic cackle. 

“Lommy!” Hot Pie said, scandalized, “Please don’t harass her on her first day.” Lommy grinned at the reaction and shook his head. 

“I told him I’d cover his next inventory overnight,” he admitted. “You _are_ hot, though. Someone should write a song about -,” Lommy interrupted himself with an uncomfortable groaning noise and clutched at his abdomen. “I really have to go.” And he did. 

“Sorry about him,” Hot Pie said as he shook his head. “He’s impossible.” Arya only laughed. 

“He’s fun,” she said. “He probably deserves the upset stomach, though.” Hot Pie nodded sagely. 

-

Arya ate her lunch in the park across the way, enjoying the warmth of the early summer. Before long, it would be uncomfortably hot in the city. She ignored a text from Sansa about Aegon’s latest interview, in which he discussed his dream first date and why he’ll never give up on true love. Meera had also texted her, wishing her luck on her first day. Arya thanked her and told her about Hot Pie and Lommy and the coffee before she lay back on the grass, basking in the sunshine. 

When she returned from lunch, there was a new boy standing behind the counter. He was holding a pencil and frowning at a pad of paper. He looked up as Arya walked in and nodded in greeting. 

“Let me know if you need help finding anything,” he said, looking back down at his paper and tilting his head. He was taller than both Hot Pie and Lommy, and he wore a plain black t-shirt with a hole in the collar. Arya couldn’t tell if this was an intentionally grungy look or if it was just a really old shirt. She approached the desk and glanced at his sketchbook. 

He was drawing a girl seated at a table, a plate of chips in front of her. She was looking down and smiling. His pencil was dark and thick, creating bold, broad lines across the page - the art was stylish, not quite minimalist but definitely not perfectly detailed. He tilted his pencil and pulled a thick stroke downwards, outlining the girl’s shoulder. 

Arya glanced at the guy. Up close, he was rather good-looking - his black hair falling in his face and curling under his ear as he hunched over his work. He had a straight, strong nose and a sharp jaw. He stilled as he felt her gaze, glancing over at her and closing his sketchbook. 

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked, looking at her properly now. He sounded almost reluctant, as if the last thing he wanted to do was help a customer. His eyes were an icy blue. 

“That was really good,” Arya said, nodding at the sketchbook. The boy - who she figured to be Lommy’s replacement, Gendry - raised his eyebrows before his face broke into a small, hesitant smile. 

“Thanks,” he said, tapping his pencil lightly on the desk. “Cool shirt.” Arya looked down and grinned. 

“You’re into The Dusky Women?” she asked, leaning onto the desk and grinning. Her shirt was a hand-me-down from her aunt Lyanna, who had been something of a hippie.

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling back before leaning over and propping himself up on his elbows so that he was facing her properly. “They’re pretty much the only sort of psychedelic rock I can stand.” 

“Fair,” Arya smiled. “The other stuff does get a little bit too peace-and-love for my taste.” He grinned back at her and she willed herself not to blush. She wished Lommy and Hot Pie had warned her that the other guy was a grade-A stunner. 

“Totally. You looking for anything in particular today?” he asked, twirling his pencil absentmindedly. He looked almost unsure, as if talking to people about music wasn’t something he did every day (which couldn’t be the case, considering he worked in a record store). 

“Actually, I’m -,”

“Arya!” Hot Pie cried. He sounded a little out of breath as he entered the store. “Sorry I’m late, the line-up at the chicken place was - oh, hey Gendry!” Hot Pie waved at his friend and took a breath, his cheeks still red from his haste. “I see you’ve met the new girl.” Gendry looked back at Arya and frowned. 

“You work here?” he asked. Arya nodded, meeting his confused face with a smile. Gods, he was pretty even with his brows knit as if he was doing a complicated math problem in his head. 

“Yeah, I’m -,” 

“Arya,” Hot Pie said, plopping down on the unused seat behind the counter. “Like the song.” Arya rolled her eyes and Gendry made a noise of disgust.

“Oh gods, really? My condolences. That song blows.” Arya gave him a don’t-I-know-it look as he carried on. “Like, he strums two guitar chords the entire time and the lyrics are absolute shite. The little hip-hoppy bit where he tried to rhyme ‘Arya’ with ‘yeah’, like, four times?” He shook his head and gave her an apologetic laugh. Hot Pie had raised his eyebrows, evidently surprised by Gendry’s passionate distaste for the song. “My little sister is obsessed with it. Every time I drive her anywhere she forces me to listen to it. She wants to be this ‘Arya’ he describes, I swear, she’s started wearing her hair in a braid and keeps talking about getting her nose pierced.” Arya’s hand immediately went to the braid that hung over her shoulder and she felt her face heat up as her eyes dropped to the desk. “And the line about her ‘silver’ eyes, like what -,” But Gendry stopped talking then, because the pink in Arya’s cheeks and her inadvertent hand on her hair and the little stud in her nose must have given her away. “Holy shit…,”

Arya looked up and met his eyes properly - they were wide with disbelief. Hot Pie was looking between them, confused. “What -,” 

“You’re Arya,” Gendry said, his face a little white. “Like, _Arya_ Arya.” 

“Yeah, mate, that’s her name,” Hot Pie said, scoffing at Gendry’s apparent confusion. Arya winced. 

“He means I’m the Arya from the song,” she sighed. “‘Arya, Please’ is about me.” Gendry’s mouth had fallen open slightly as he blinked at her and Hot Pie was gaping like a fish. She looked between them for a moment before rolling her eyes. “It’s not a big deal,” she insisted, “Really!” 

“Not a big deal?” Hot Pie exclaimed, “You’re the song of the summer! You’re famous!” 

“You dated Aegon Targaryen,” Gendry said, somewhat weakly. Arya sighed. 

“Lommy is gonna love this,” Hot Pie grinned. “This is so cool.” 

-

Arya was relieved that a slew of customers kept the store busy for most of the afternoon, and that her time was spent learning the alphabetical-by-genre system that kept Houndbite’s stock somewhat in order. By the time Hot Pie left her alone with Gendry for the closing shift she had been supposed to share with Lommy, Aegon hadn’t been brought up since Gendry’s moment of realization. The store had grown quiet again as Gendry and Arya began sorting out the go-backs that had been left at the desk. 

“Sorry about earlier,” he said after a few minutes of silence, “For shitting on the song.” Arya looked at him and failed to stifle a laugh at the concern flitting across his face. 

“I don’t care.” Arya said, “Seriously. You might think you hate the song but I can promise that I hate it more.” 

“Seems fair. My sister’s gonna freak out when she finds out I know _the_ Arya,” he said. “Do you give out autographs?” She smacked his arm and he laughed before sobering up as he handed her a rap album to add to her pile. “So you guys are over then, yeah?” He didn’t look at her as he asked, instead choosing to double check the order of his pop albums. 

“Extremely,” Arya said. “The song was the nail in the coffin, not that I needed it.” Gendry smiled. 

“Well, as a fellow artist I have to give him props for putting his feelings out there.” He said. 

“And as a person with ears?” Arya asked, grinning as Gendry failed to keep a straight face. 

“It’s pretty shit,” he said. 

-

She arrived for her shift the next day with her hair shorn a few inches above her shoulders. She kept her nose piercing in because she liked it, but she hated walking around everyday matching Aegon’s description of her. Sandor greeted Arya with a grunt, not noticing the change in her appearance. 

“Those idiots haven’t made you want to quit yet?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Arya smiled and set her bag in the cubby under the desk. 

“They’re nice,” she said. Sandor raised his eyebrows and snorted. 

“Just wait til Greenhands gets into one of his karaoke moods.” 

-

Lommy declared her haircut “gorgeous” and asked her if it was a ploy to win Aegon back. Arya glared at him. 

“Hot Pie told you, then?” she asked. 

“Sure did,” Lommy said, “But I’m kidding about winning him back. Clearly he’s the one trying to get _you_ back.” He sighed longingly. “If I had Aegon Targaryen writing love songs for me…,” Lommy trailed off, fanning himself. “You are a strong woman, Arya.” 

“You could do better,” Arya said, and she meant it. 

“Arya, he’s literally the prettiest boy in the world,” Lommy insisted. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Agree to disagree,” she said as the bell on the door rang and Gendry entered. He nodded in greeting and Arya gave him a small wave. Lommy was still going on about Aegon, though. 

“You two would look good together,” he carried on. “Like, I know you say it’s over, but I swear I would not blame you if you got back together with him. Gendry, you agree?” Gendry set his sketchbook down and raised an eyebrow at Lommy. 

“What am I agreeing to?” 

“We wouldn’t blame Arya for getting back with Aegon,” Lommy explained. Gendry glanced at Arya, who was not hiding her look of exasperation, before looking back at Lommy. 

“She can do whatever she wants,” Gendry shrugged. “But I’d make him write me something listenable first.”


	2. track 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi loves, this is my little guilty pleasure fic so apologies if it's extremely cheesy x i'm simply here to have a good time

“Iced coffee, no sugar, skim milk,” Hot Pie said, sliding Gendry his drink. “Iced coffee, two pumps of hazelnut syrup, one pump of vanilla syrup, and _soy_ milk.” Lommy grabbed the cup and took a sip punctuated with a satisfied sigh. “And for the lady, an iced Earl Grey tea with honey.” Hot Pie made a face. 

“It’s good!” Arya insisted. 

“Thank you,” Lommy said to Hot Pie. “That didn’t take long!” 

“Sharna’s is empty,” he shrugged. “That Mockingbird spot opened up around the corner and there’s a line halfway round the block.” Gendry grumbled. 

“It’s owned by the same bloke who runs that Oldstones chain,” he scoffed. “And that bougie espresso place in High Hill.” 

“Oh dear,” Hot Pie said. “Sharna seemed a little down, but hopefully the hype dies down and she’s back to her usual busy self soon.” They nodded in agreement. 

“No one brews a better soy hazelnut latte than Sharna,” Lommy declared, taking another sip of his drink. 

-

The soy hazelnut latte in question did not last as long as Lommy had hoped. Gendry was kneeling under the desk to fix the cash register drawer when Lommy flung his arms out enthusiastically while singing along to a disco song. The cup landed directly on Gendry’s head, losing its lid and spilling all over him as he yelled in surprise. His hair was stuck to his face, dripping with cold, syrupy coffee. 

“My latte!” Lommy cried, hopping over the desk to retrieve the now-empty cup. Gendry met Arya’s eye and scowled as she bit her lip, trying and failing not to join in Hot Pie’s laughter. 

“Well, the drawer’s fixed,” he sighed, wringing out the bottom of his coffee-soaked shirt. 

Arya would not have guessed that Lommy’s spilt latte would be the catalyst for the best moment of her week, but the world is a funny and unpredictable place. Gendry gave up trying to dry the shirt and opted instead to peel it off completely. He tossed it at Lommy, who cried out. “How do you drink that shit?” he asked, “It’s all syrupy and sticky.” Gendry touched his chest gingerly. 

Arya was vaguely aware of Gendry’s complaints regarding the stickiness of Lommy’s drink, but she was more focused on the defined muscles and absolutely exquisite shoulders that were currently on display. What business did an artist have looking like that? He was _ripped_. She almost felt bad that the coffee was so sticky, but the remains of Lommy’s drink dripping down his torso somehow made the whole sight even more appealing. Gendry tugged his wet hair out of his face and gagged. “Eugh, my hair’s going to be all milky.” 

“It’s not proper milk!” Hot Pie added. “It’s soy.” 

“Not my main concern,” Gendry said flatly. “I need a shirt.” _No, you really don’t_ , Arya thought. 

Sandor Clegane chose that moment to step into his store. He blinked at the sight - Gendry, shirtless and wet behind the cash register beside Lommy, who was holding the soaking wet t-shirt and his empty cup. The boss rolled his eyes and moved to go upstairs to the flat he owned above his shop. 

“Wait,” Gendry called. “Can I borrow a shirt?” 

-

“He didn’t have anything bigger?” Arya teased. Gendry had descended from Sandor’s flat wearing an inhumanly large shirt. Gendry was a big guy, but Clegane was both taller and broader. Gendry looked rather silly in his oversized tee that bore the slogan _The Big Dog_. 

“Fuck off,” Gendry said, but he was smiling. Lommy sniggered. “You can actually fuck off, though,” Gendry warned. 

“Whatever you say, Big Dog,” the blond laughed as he sauntered into the aisle to reorganize some records that a customer had accidentally shuffled around. Gendry frowned as he went back counting out change. Arya watched him and couldn’t help but let out another laugh at the way his hair was drying.

“Your hair’s gone crusty,” she said, wrinkling her nose and reaching up to touch the most prominent strand. His eyes went wide. “It’s drying all chalky.” He was watching her in apparent shock, his lips parting automatically as she brushed the offending piece of hair away from his face. “Although I’ve heard soy milk helps your hair grow thicker. Rich in protein and all that.” She smiled at him and returned to her own stack of coins. 

“Thanks,” he choked out after a moment. 

“Thank Lommy,” she said cheerfully, enjoying the blush that was creeping up his neck. 

“Not likely,” Gendry said, tucking the front of his baggy shirt into his jeans and frowning at the result.

-

“Okay, the girl that just came in has _exactly_ the bag I want,” Lommy said quietly as they huddled around the desk. “It would cost me three full pay cheques but I need it.” 

“Crazy,” Gendry said, not looking up from his sketchbook. 

Arya chuckled and turned to see - “Sansa?” 

“Arya!” Sansa cried, a forced smile plastered on her face. “This is where you work!” 

“Why are you here?” Arya asked. Sansa and Arya had found some common ground over the years, making fun of Jon’s incompetency with women and bonding over how much they both hated Sansa’s ex-boyfriends. But this - Houndbite Records - was not a place of common ground. Fleabottom and its seedy record stores were decidedly not somewhere that Sansa Stark would ever normally show her face.

“It’s certainly indie, isn’t it?” Sansa said, glancing around the shop. “Very… grunge.” 

“Those are just genres of music, Sansa,” Arya said, wanting Sansa to get to the point. “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” Sansa said. “I’m just a few minutes early to meet Myranda. We’re in the area to check out that new coffee shop - Mockingbird, have you been yet?” Gendry snorted and Sansa turned to him and Lommy. “Hi,” she said, taking in Gendry’s baggy shirt and crusty hair. “I’m Sansa, Arya’s sister. You must be her colleagues.” Lommy grinned at that. 

“Colleagues,” he repeated. “Yeah, I’m Lommy. And this is our colleague, Gendry.” Gendry nodded. “Our other colleague, Hot Pie, is out on lunch.” 

“Hot Pie,” Sansa repeated, sensing that she was being mocked. Arya shot the boys a warning look before turning back to Sansa. “Right, well while I have you…,” Sansa pulled an envelope out of her bag. “Aegon stopped by the house. He knows you’re living by the uni now, but he wanted to say hi to the family and give you this.” Arya grimaced.

“What is it?” she asked skeptically, taking the envelope from Sansa and opening it to find a letter and a little silver hoop earring with a tiny turquoise stone on it. 

“I think he found that in his couch cushions,” Sansa whispered far too loudly for Arya’s liking. Her cheeks felt as though they were on fire. “You’re missing one just like this, right?” Arya put the earring back in the envelope. She _had_ been looking everywhere for this earring. She realized, now, that the last time she had worn them had been months ago, when Aegon and her sat down to watch a movie and ended up doing something rather less innocent.

“Tell him he can mail it next time,” she said, scanning the letter and crumpling it up into a ball. “And that I’m still not interested.” Sansa sighed. 

“Arya, he’s got the biggest song in the country and he’s still writing you _love letters_ ” Sansa hissed. “Most guys would be fucking some random model by now! But Aegon still wants _you_.” 

“Sansa,” Arya said firmly. “I don’t care if he’s fucking twelve different models. I don’t want him.”

“He wrote you a song!” Sansa was no longer whispering.

“He ruined my life,” Arya cried. “Teenagers on the internet _hate_ me, Sansa. They all think I’m some awful heartless bitch who is ruining their lives and standing in the way of their shot with Aegon.” 

“Barra likes you,” Gendry said. Both sisters looked at him. Arya grinned.

“Your sister is an exception to the rule,” she said before turning back to Sansa. “Can you please let this go?” Sansa tore her eyes from Gendry and gave Arya a look of concern. 

“For now,” Sansa conceded. “I have to meet Myranda. But, you know, consider what you’re saying ‘no’ to. Aegon’s the whole package.” 

“Maybe you should date him,” Arya joked, and Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“You know I don’t date blonds anymore,” Sansa scoffed. “I just don’t think you should give up on them so easily.” She gave Arya an earnest smile as she headed to the door. “Oh, and Rickon wants to remind you to bring him that new… Crawl album?”

“Crowl,” Arya corrected with a thumbs up. “Thanks for the reminder.” 

-

The boys had invited Arya up to their Friday night rooftop hangouts two weeks into her time at Houndbite. They had plastic chairs and a hacky sack and not much else, but with a few beers and some weed it made a pretty alright spot to spend an evening. Their favourite game was the creatively named “Truth,” which was just Truth or Dare without the “dare” bit. 

“Why no dares?” Arya had asked the first time she had been included. 

“Lommy kept daring Gendry to take his shirt off,” Hot Pie explained. Lommy nodded sadly. 

“He got sick of it pretty quickly,” Lommy signed. “Such a prude.” Gendry offered his friend an apologetic shrug and a puff of his hastily rolled joint. 

-

“Right,” Lommy said, “First things first. Arya Stark.” 

“Present,” she said. 

“Truth: What was in the letter your sister dropped off the other day?” Lommy asked. Arya took a long drag of her joint and exhaled. She had learned that there was no point in hiding anything. Plus, the part of her brain that was still thinking about Gendry’s abs wanted to make it clear that she was very much available. 

“He thinks I gave up on us too quickly. Says he misses me and that it’s not the same with other girls.” 

“Ohh,” Hot Pie exclaimed, “So he’s admitted to being with other girls!” Arya shrugged. It didn’t bother her what Aegon did or didn’t do with other girls. 

“He’s single,” she said. “We’re both allowed to pursue whomever we like.” She caught Gendry’s eye before turning to Lommy. 

“Lommy. Truth: Have you got a thing for that Dornish guy that always comes in to buy jazz records?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” he blushed. 

-

Truth: Hot Pie had started applying to culinary schools but he thought it was a silly idea, really.

Truth: No, Gendry still hadn’t called his dad and yes, he would like it if Hot Pie stopped asking him about it. 

Truth: Arya hated the latest Sand Snakes single, even though she had loved their previous album. 

Truth: Gendry also hated it, but he had hated their old stuff anyway. 

Truth: Lommy knew every word _and_ the dance routine. And he was happy to demonstrate it.

-

“I don’t get that pop shite he likes,” Gendry said as he cracked open another beer and handed it to Arya. Hot Pie was clapping along as Lommy did a rather impressive reenactment of the Sand Snakes’ latest music video. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“You’re so boring,” she said, smiling at the affronted look that crossed his face. 

“You said you hated it too!”

“Yeah, the single is awful,” Arya agreed, “But there’s loads of good pop music.” Gendry raised an eyebrow and waited. “The Black Pearls,” Arya said. “Green Grace. Dareon.”

“Never listened to them, stupid name, looks like a prat.” 

“You just need to open your mind a bit,” Arya said sagely, stealing his smoke and bringing it to her lips. She liked the feeling of his eyes on her as she exhaled. “And Dareon is hot. The whole mysterious, tall, dark-haired, troubled artist thing is sort of sexy.” 

“You should go for it,” Gendry said dully. “Maybe he’ll write you a song.” Arya rolled her eyes. She had never been the world’s best flirt, but sometimes talking to Gendry was like talking to a very stubborn brick wall. 

“Think I’m done with musicians,” she said, handing him back his joint. Their fingers brushed briefly and she felt a shiver of electricity run through her body. “You working on anything cool right now?” 

-

Gendry worked with charcoal mostly, and though he downplayed his talent, Arya could tell he took pride in his illustrations. She occasionally flipped through his school sketchbooks while they worked, always taken aback by how alive his work seemed, regardless of how rushed or minimal the sketches were. He never let anyone look at his personal sketchbook. Art school was forcing him to take some digital design classes, which he admitted were useful, but he always preferred to use a pencil and paper. 

He seemed equally interested in Arya’s dreams of becoming a music journalist. Writing about music every day sounded like a pretty sweet gig to him, though he insisted that he could never pull it off.

“Words have never been my strong suit,” he explained one afternoon as he handed a customer their purchase and receipt. “I looked up some of your stuff, though. It’s good.” Arya waved to the customer as they exited with a ‘thank you!’ and willed herself not to blush under Gendry’s gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded as he fiddled with his pencil. “I especially enjoyed your review of Grey Worm’s EP. He’s a friend of mine.” 

“No way!” Arya said. “He’s amazing! I saw him at a club last winter and totally fell in love with his stuff.”

“He’s brilliant,” Gendry agreed. “He’s finally releasing an album in a few weeks.” 

“I heard that,” Arya beamed. “I can’t wait.” 

“There’ll probably be a release party,” Gendry said. He tapped his pencil on the desk and seemed on the verge of saying something when the phone rang loudly and made them both jump. 

“Houndbite Records, how can I help you?” Arya asked, reaching beyond Gendry to take the call. He hated talking on the phone and gave her an appreciative smile as she wound the telephone cord around her finger.

(Gendry’s rare smiles were rather distracting, though, so she was forced to ask the customer to repeat their inquiry.)

-

“Just ask him for a drink,” Arianne shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could say ‘no’,” Meera answered for Arya, who proceeded to slump onto their kitchen table and groaned. “Not that he would, though!” 

“Bring up that release party again, then,” Arianne said. “Or just invite him to the White Fawn show! He’d totally be into that.” 

“He’s already got tickets,” Arya said miserably. “I heard him telling Lommy about them last week. Besides, I’m not even positive that he likes me like that.” Arianne huffed impatiently.  
“Wear that plaid skirt and show off those little legs of yours and then you’ll have your answer,” she said with some finality. “Easy!” 

-

It was, in the end, as easy as Arianne had thought it would be. Arya wore her plaid skirt - an old red and grey thing she had picked up in a thrift store - and rolled the hem up once so that it sat slightly higher up the thigh than it should. The sheer tights she wore underneath were necessary, since the day was greyer than most summer days. The look was by no means _indecent_ , but she certainly wouldn’t have worn it to brunch with her mother. 

Gendry looked up from the desk when she arrived and froze, his pencil clattering onto the counter as he gaped at her. 

“Hi,” she said. He blinked. 

“Hey,” Gendry finally choked out. “Hi.” 

“Busy morning?” Arya asked. 

“Huh?” He was definitely blushing and he had _definitely_ drawn his eyes up her legs twice now.

“This morning,” Arya repeated, tossing her bag onto the cash desk and hitching herself up to sit on it. “Has it been busy?” She crossed her legs and watched him swallow. 

“Uh, no,” he eventually said. “Rainy day and all that. No foot traffic.” 

“Just you and me, then,” Arya smiled. Gendry retrieved his pencil and tucked it behind his ear. He glanced back to her thighs and nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. Arianne was a genius. 

-

Arya liked these days where it was just her and Gendry. She liked watching him sketch the customers on the back side of receipts and she liked how painful his customer service voice sounded. He liked to tease her about how she talked to half of their patrons as if they were old friends. They bonded (and occasionally argued) over the other’s music selections. Arya would bob her head or sway her shoulders to the music - Gendry remained stoic beyond a few foot taps here and there. 

“You don’t dance,” Arya said, moving slightly to the music as she re-alphabetized the _Post Punk: A-K_ section. It was an upbeat 60s rock song - something of a classic. Gendry, who had been watching her instead of working on his sketches, blinked and shook his head. 

“Not really,” he said, finally returning to this artwork. 

“Why not?” Arya asked. “Afraid you might accidentally have fun for once?” Gendry shook his head in exasperation and set down his pencil. He looked back at up her and smiled. 

“Prefer to watch,” he shrugged. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Alright, Mr. Darcy,” she laughed, not bothering to explain the comment further as he tilted his head in confusion. “It’s healthy, you know,” she moved her shoulders and hips with the beat, “loosening up every now and then.” She slid the last disc in and moved back to the desk, not missing the way his eyes followed her when she did a little step in time to the drums. “C’mon,” she insisted, looking around the store. “No one’s around!” He shook his head again as she joined him behind the desk and reached for his hands. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed as he let her lead him away from the cash register. His voice sounded oddly strained and Arya knew she had him. His hands weren’t as soft as she had imagined. She supposed that holding pens and charcoal all day had resulted in a couple of callouses. She liked it, she decided.

“Helping you loosen up,” she said, stepping sideways and drawing Gendry with her. He had his eyebrows raised and an expression of unbridled apprehension across his face, but Arya knew he wouldn’t let go of her hands. She met his (unfairly blue) eyes and smiled as she attempted to get his shoulders moving. His torso remained still, but she did get a reluctant smile in return. 

The chime as the door to the shop opened shocked them both into dropping each other’s hands in a flash. A girl a couple of years younger than Rickon skipped into the store. She had long black hair pulled into a braid and a tiny silver stud in her nose. Her eyes were big and bright and blue. “Hiii, Gendry,” she called. 

“Barra,” Gendry said in surprise. “You’re supposed to be at hockey practice.” 

“Cancelled,” Barra shrugged. “The field’s all rained out. So I came here instead.” She looked at Arya and froze. “Oh my gods.” 

“Hi, Barra,” Arya said. “You’re Gendry’s sister, right? I’m -,”

“Arya,” Barra finished for her, blinking rapidly. “I’m, like, obsessed with you.” 

“Barra,” Gendry warned, but Arya whacked his elbow. 

“It’s really lovely to meet someone who doesn’t hate me,” Arya said, leaning forward to talk with Barra, who was shaking her head adamantly.

“You did nothing wrong,” she said. “I mean, I still hope you and Aegon work it out, but people should be _thanking_ you. “Arya, Please” is, like, the best song ever.” Gendry groaned.

“I don’t think we’ll work it out,” Arya said apologetically. “I don’t really like him like that anymore.” The younger girl looked slightly put out. “I love your nose ring, though.” Barra’s eyes lit up.

“It’s not real,” Gendry said.

“Magnetic,” Barra admitted with a blush. 

“Well, it looks the part,” Arya said. Barra grinned. 

“Your eyes really are silver,” she said. “Aegon was right.” 

“I could have told you that,” Gendry scoffed. 

“Well, you didn’t,” Barra challenged. “You refuse to tell me anything about the literal celebrity you work with.” 

“I’m not a celebrity, Barra,” Arya laughed. Gendry shook his head and his sister stuck her tongue out at him. The phone rang and Arya stepped around Gendry to pick it up.

“Houndbite Records, this is -,”

“Stark, yeah, hi,” Sandor grunted. “Did I get a package today?” 

“Gendry, did a package get delivered today?” Arya asked. Gendry nodded. 

“I set it up by his door,” he explained. 

“Yep, we got one.” 

“Great,” Sandor said. “Those’ll be the new headphones for the listening booth. Can you two set that up?” 

“Sure thing,” Arya said, and Sandor hung up without further comment.

-

Arya left Gendry with Barra and trudged up the stairs to the front door of Sandor’s flat. She picked up the package and made it halfway down the stairs when she heard voices. The vent at the first landing was broken and open, and Arya could hear everything that the siblings discussed below her.

“She’s so pretty,” Barra said. “Do you think she’s actually over Aegon?” She sounded rather sad. Arya paused, wanting to hear Gendry’s response.

“Dunno,” he said. “I mean, he wrote her a song.” 

“If he wrote _me_ that song -,”

“He’d be in prison for writing a song about a thirteen-year-old.” 

“Ew, stop it,” Barra said. “It’s romantic and it’d be cute if they worked it out. Rosie at school thinks they’re, like, inevitable.” 

“Yeah,” Gendry sighed. “Maybe they are.” Arya rolled her eyes and stomped down the stairs.

-

“Sorry about her,” Gendry said as he hooked up the new set of headphones to the listening booth wall. Barra had bid them farewell after a half hour of chatting - her mother had texted her asking if she wanted to go out for dumplings. “She can be a little overenthusiastic.” 

“She’s sweet,” Arya insisted. “Did you not want to go for dumplings with your mum? I can cover -,”

“Not my mother,” Gendry said flatly. 

“Oh,” Arya said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize -,”

“Don’t be sorry,” he laughed, handing her back the screwdriver. “Our dad got around a lot. None of my siblings have the same mother - except the twins, I guess.” He said it casually, as if it was just a fun, quirky bit of family trivia. “Barra’s mum was his secretary,” Gendry grinned at the look on Arya’s face. “Now you know why he and I don’t talk much.” 

“Whoa,” Arya said. “It’s cool that you and Barra get to hang out, though.” 

“Yeah, she’s a good kid,” he said. “Rough taste in music, though.” Arya grinned. 

-

The conversation Arya had overheard between Gendry and his sister bothered her. There was nothing inevitable about Aegon and Arya, nothing romantic or cute about them anymore. Surely Gendry could see that Arya’s interests lay elsewhere. She had worn the shortest skirt in her closet and had even attempted to dance with him!

She was half asleep when it came to her - the most classic and foolproof and obvious way to tell someone you had a thing for them. 

-

“Here you go,” she said, sliding the little plastic case across the desk at Gendry. Hot Pie looked curious. 

“What’s that?” he frowned. 

“I made Gendry a mixed tape,” she said. Gendry picked up the silvery disc and smiled. 

“ _Pop songs that don’t suck_ ,” he read her messy sharpie scrawl aloud. 

“Your education begins now,” Arya said. Maybe she had tossed a few romantic songs on there with the hope that he would take the hint. Maybe she had stayed up all night making sure the order of songs was absolutely perfect. Maybe the smile on his face right now was enough to make her self-consciousness and tired eyes totally worthwhile.


	3. track 3 (live)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time spent editing: 0 minutes  
> time spent thinking about plot holes and second guessing this: 1 million minutes
> 
> but whatever, we're all just here to have fun, right?

“Alright,” Gendry conceded, settling down in the chair beside Arya as Lommy and Hot Pie attempted to keep their hacky sack off the ground for more than ten seconds at a time. “You were right.” Arya beamed. 

“I was right?” She repeated. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I still don’t get that Dareon guy, but the rest of it is good.”

“So you’re saying that pop music is good?” Arya clarified, enjoying the eye roll she received in return. 

“Sure,” Gendry said. “Those songs are good. However -,”

“Oh, here we go.” 

“No, hey, listen,” Gendry laughed. “ _However_ , “My Featherbed” is not a pop song.” Arya groaned.

“Genre is subjective,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You’re an artist, you should get that.” 

“I do!” Gendry said. “But it’s not pop! The Brotherhood are a rock and roll band.” 

“A rock and roll band that made a pop song,” Arya insisted. 

“If you say so,” Gendry conceded. “Whatever it is, it’s a classic. You know, a few weeks back there was an article that said “Arya, Please” was this generation’s “My Featherbed”. Did you see that?” 

“Oh yeah,” Arya said. “Repulsive piece of journalism.” Gendry grinned. 

“Apparently, you are the forest lass for the internet age,” he laughed. “The gown of golden leaves is now… what’s the line?” Arya glared at him. 

“ _A leather jacket with ripped jean shorts_ ,” Lommy crooned in a rather impressive imitation of Aegon’s singing voice.

“Do we have anything stronger than beer?” Arya said as Hot Pie and Lommy carried on with the rest of the verse. 

“There is a secret whiskey stash,” Gendry said quietly. “But we save that for inventory nights.” 

-

White Fawn was one of Arya’s very favourite bands. They were loud, somewhere between punk and post-punk and metal and garage rock, and she had seen them twice before. 

“The opening act is supposed to be good as well,” Ned said as he handed Arya and Meera their drinks. “Is Arianne coming?” The girls exchanged a smile at Ned’s lack of subtlety.

“She’s gonna miss the opener,” Arya said. “But I’ll make sure to send her up to the bar to say hi.” Ned blushed. 

“Please don’t do that,” he said quietly. 

“Don’t worry, Ned,” Meera said. “Your secret’s safe with us. And everyone else who has ever seen you interact with her.” They tipped Ned and headed off to find a place to stand. 

“Perfect,” Arya said as they found a spot with a nice view of the stage. The word had barely escaped her lips when a tall figure stepped in front of her. He looked around and ran his hand through his hair in an all too familiar way. “Excuse me! You’re in our way,” Arya snapped, drawing a look of surprise from Meera. The guy turned, annoyed, before his face broke into a smile. 

“Hey!” Gendry said. He motioned over his shoulder towards the stage. “Sorry, can you not see past me?” He was teasing her. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Meera, this is one of the idiots I work with,” Arya said. “Gendry, this is my friend Meera.” The pair shook hands as Meera raised her eyebrows. 

“ _Gendry_ ,” Meera said. “I think she’s mentioned you once or twice.” Arya shot Meera a glare, but was pleased to see Gendry’s face light up at her words. 

“Yeah?” Gendry asked. 

“Yeah,” Arya said, hooking her elbow through Meera’s and stepping into the space in front of Gendry before looking back at him. “Are you here alone?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “I’m here with -,” But Gendry’s companion arrived as he spoke. 

“They don’t have any Crack Claws,” she said, crossing her arms in annoyance. The girl was pretty, with soft features and wavy hair that fell well past her shoulders. She was tall - not as tall as Gendry, but she certainly wouldn’t have trouble seeing over Arya’s head. “This band better be good.” 

“They are,” Gendry insisted. Arya looked between them, her heart in her throat. She had never considered the possibility of Gendry having a girlfriend. Arya thought about every blatant show of flirtation she had displayed and winced internally. 

In her defense, though, Gendry had _never_ mentioned a girlfriend and he had definitely not discouraged the flirting. The girl didn’t stand particularly close to Gendry, and they weren’t even holding hands. Maybe this was a casual thing - a first date or something. The girl didn’t look impressed with the venue, and Arya couldn’t help but feel a little bit hopeful that it would not work out between them - she never claimed to be a selfless person. 

“Jeyne,” Gendry said. “This is Arya. And Meera, Arya’s friend.” He motioned to the girls in front of him. Arya put on her most convincing smile, but the girl’s eyes had widened at Gendry’s introduction.

“Arya!” She said, amused. “Arya, like, the one who made him a mixed tape?” _Oh no._

“Um,” Arya started.

“Yes,” Gendry said sharply. Jeyne grinned. 

“Interesting,” she said. She didn’t sound angry, which seemed to bode well. “Anguy and I have been trying to get Gendry to listen to Green Grace for years, and he’s always turned his nose up. But tonight he picks us up for the show and he’s got a whole CD of pop music blaring from his car stereo.” Gendry scowled at Jeyne. 

“I’d never heard the right song,” he said feebly. Jeyne smiled at Arya. 

“Yeah, that must be it,” she said skeptically. Before Arya could respond, a gangly man came up behind Jeyne and pulled her into a hug. 

“Hey babe,” the newcomer said, and Jeyne angled her face up to kiss him deeply. Arya felt an enormous wave of relief.

“That’s Anguy,” Gendry said. “They do this a lot.” Meera made a face as Anguy and Jeyne’s tongues became briefly visible as they collided. “Nothing better than being the third wheel, right?” 

“You’re telling me,” Meera muttered.

-

“Wow,” Meera whispered. Anguy and Jeyne had separated and were catching up with Gendry - Jeyne was still annoyed by the bar’s lack of hard seltzers. Arya shushed Meera and sipped her beer. “His eyes, though.” 

“Shut up,” Arya said through gritted teeth. “He might hear you.”

“I’m just saying,” Meera shrugged. “Someone should write a song about _him_.” 

“ _Meera._ ” 

-

The opening act was a bass-heavy indie rock trio. The vocals were sort of soft and dreamy and easy to sway along to. The venue began to fill up as their set continued, forcing the crowd to shuffle closer. Arya stepped backward to allow a few people in to find their friends and accidentally knocked right into Gendry. He steadied her as she apologized and she felt her face grow warm as he said “You’re good” with surprising proximity to her ear. She stood upright and he let go of her elbows, but she didn’t move quite as far forward as she could have. 

Arya glanced over and saw Jeyne comfortably leaning into Anguy. A few couples around them had started kissing. She had never really understood why people would want to make out with their partner at a concert - why pay money to see a show if you’re not going to pay any attention to it? Aegon had always started necking her during her favourite songs, which pissed her off to no end. 

But she sort of understood now. She’d like it if Gendry had his arms around her waist. She probably wouldn’t be upset if his lips met her shoulder. She sort of wished Meera and Anguy and Jeyne weren’t there. 

The song ended and the lead singer thanked the crowd and the lights of the bar flickering back on brought Arya out of her reverie. 

She blinked and made to take another sip of her drink, but it was empty. 

“Here,” Gendry said, reaching over her and plucking her empty bottle from her hand. “I’ll grab you another. Meera?” Meera shook her head and thanked him before grinning at Arya. 

-

“So,” Arianne said, sidling in between Arya and Meera. “Anything to report? Was the opener any good?” Arya nodded and Meera ignored the question. 

“I met Arya’s _friend_ ,” she grinned. Arya flushed as Arianne gasped. 

“Gendry?” Arianne demanded. Arya would have told her friend to be quiet, seeing as Gendry’s two companions were _directly_ behind them, but Anguy and Jeyne were too busy kissing each other to overhear anything. She nodded. “Where is he?” Arianne scanned the room excitedly. 

“Getting Arya a drink,” Meera said. Arya couldn’t help but smile with them. 

“Ned was asking about you,” she told Arianne, who rolled her eyes at the change in topic. 

“Ned’s too sweet for me,” she sighed. “I could never date someone so _safe_. I need a man with more of an edge. Ooh, like this guy.” Arya followed Arianne’s eyes to the bar, where Gendry picked up a beer and began making his way back to them. “He looks like the type that would call you by the wrong name but you forgive him cause the sex is - oh my Gods, is he coming over here? Shut up. Shh.” 

“Hey,” Gendry said, handing Arya the beer and glancing briefly at Arianne’s look of shock as Meera tugged Arianne away. 

“Thanks,” Arya said, taking a sip. “You didn’t get one?” Gendry shook his head. 

“Driving,” he explained. Arya felt a funny swooping sensation in her gut. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. Gendry shrugged. 

“I wanted to buy you a drink.” The lights dimmed and the crowd started cheering and Arya was forced to turn away from Gendry again, her cheeks rather warm. 

-

Arya was aware that White Fawn played the show. She was conscious of the fact that they played all of her favourite songs and even debuted an unreleased track. She was present for the show, really. 

But it was hard to focus on the band when she was so very aware that Gendry was standing behind her. Gendry, who was playing her mixed tape in his car. Gendry, who had bought her a drink. Gendry, who she couldn’t help but knock into as the crowd jostled them all around. 

It was sweaty and uncomfortable, in amongst so many tightly packed bodies. Four songs into the set, Arya peeled her button-down off and tied it around her waist, leaving her in only her little black camisole. 

During a brief break between songs, Arya glanced around at Gendry. “It’s so hot in here,” she breathed. Gendry blinked at her and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Hot.” 

Arya was about to comment on how into it the crowd was, or mention that they had just played her favourite song, but the music started up again. She smiled and turned back towards the stage. 

-

Arya’s felt oddly light after the show ended. She decided that standing so close to Gendry in the dark was not good for her head. Her heart almost stopped entirely when he asked her if she needed a ride home - he had to lean a little closer to her to be heard over the din of the chattering crowd. 

“We only live a couple blocks away,” Arya said, shaking her head and motioning to Arianne and Meera, who were giggling about something. “Plus, your friends need a ride, right?” Gendry shrugged. 

“Taking a taxi wouldn’t kill them,” he said. There was an awkward moment of silence before Gendry spoke again. “Well, get home safe, yeah?” Arya nodded. He looked slightly put out and Arya felt a pang of regret. She wished she lived all the way over in Godsgate or somewhere across the Blackwater, just for an excuse to drive around with Gendry. Jeyne had said he had played her mixtape in the car - Arya could have kicked herself for living around the corner from the concert venue. 

“Thanks for the offer,” she said. He tucked his hands in his pockets and nodded. Before he could turn away and before she could second guess herself, Arya stood up on her toes to give him a swift kiss on the cheek. She stepped away and was pleased to see that his eyes were wide and his cheeks were pink. “You get home safe, too.” She turned away before he could respond, leaving him with his hand on his cheekbone and his lips still parted in surprise. 

-

“That show was awesome,” Meera said as the girls made their way back to their shared flat. “Even though my ears will still be ringing tomorrow morning.” 

“They are _so_ good live,” Arya agreed. Distractions notwithstanding, it had been a wonderful concert.

“I can’t believe you didn’t let Gendry drive you home,” Arianne said. She had also enjoyed the show, but was completely disinterested in discussing anything other than Arya’s ride rejection. 

“I would feel pretty stupid getting him to drive me for three minutes,” Arya said. 

“You could have sat in his car and _talked_ , though,” Arianne said sharply. Arya considered this. She felt very stupid now. “It would have been perfect. You, him, that CD you made for him, the backseat of his car -,”

“Arianne!” Arya laughed. “I don’t think that’s what he had in mind.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have objected, though,” Meera chimed in. “He spent half the concert staring at your hair. I thought he was going to pass out when you took your shirt off.” 

“Probably was hoping to get to do it himself later,” Arianne sighed as they approached their front step. “And all he got was a kiss on the cheek. Shame.” Arya rolled her eyes and fished the house keys out of her purse. 

“The good news is, he _definitely_ likes you,” Meera said. Arianne nodded vehemently. Arya smiled. Sure, she now wished she was currently making the most of some time alone with Gendry in his car, but even that couldn’t bring her mood down right now. Nothing could, really. 

-

She was going to drown herself in the river. No, she was going to drown Aegon in the river and then herself. It wasn’t enough to have billboards with her name on them and posters with his stupid, poser face plastered around the city.

He had to go and make a music video. 

It was everything she should have expected. Aegon was front and center, his silvery blond hair framing his face as he sat on the edge of a bed, serenading an Arya that wasn’t there. That is, until she was there. A girl appeared as the second verse started. It seemed to imply some sort of flashback, with Aegon and Arya now taking advantage of the bed from the first shot. 

The girl was far prettier than Arya, with sharp cheekbones and soft, arching eyebrows. She had bigger boobs, too, pushed up in a lacy black bra. Her hair was braided, though, just the way Arya used to wear hers. As the camera cut to a close up of the girl, Arya saw a nose ring just like hers and eyes so grey that she was certain that the girl was wearing contacts. She also noticed, with an unpleasant lurch of her stomach, that the girl was wearing the earring that Aegon had returned to Arya the previous week. 

The video didn’t really have much of a plot. It mostly consisted of Aegon looking mournful, thinking back on better times when he and Arya made out a lot. Arya was certain that Aegon had been involved in the video’s creative decisions, because there were multiple shots of him in only his skinny jeans, showing off his six-pack. The video was cut like all music videos are - vague close-ups of his hand on her waist, shots of her giggling as he pulled her into his arms, transitions of crisp white sheets intercut with images of their lips meeting. 

The final shot was of Aegon, alone again, holding the earring and asking Arya for one last kiss. She always hated that last line, but seeing him sing it directly into the camera made Arya feel like throwing up her breakfast.

“I’m sorry you had to see this,” Arianne said, pulling her phone away from Arya, who was supposed to be at work in only twenty minutes. “But I couldn’t have you going out into the world without knowing that it exists.” She patted Arya on the shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, the model he hired to play you was voted Freyboy’s Hottest Instagram Follow this year.” 

“Model?” Arya repeated. 

“It’s a compliment, I think,” Arianne insisted, but her face faltered. “Either that or he’s trying desperately to make you jealous.”

“Either way, it’s not doing him any favours,” Arya spat, grabbing her purse from the back of her chair and making to leave.

“Duh!” Arianne agreed. “You should totally get back at him by making out with someone way hotter than him, though. Speaking of which - is Gendry working today?” Arya rolled her eyes and left to catch her train.

-

“Hello, beautiful,” Lommy said as Arya arrived at Houndbite. “Have you seen it?” Arya glared at him. 

“Taking that as a ‘yes’,” Hot Pie laughed. 

“Can we please not talk about it?” Arya asked. Lommy looked pained for a moment before the question he was dying to ask burst out of him. 

“Is he as good of a kisser as he looks?” Arya groaned at the question. 

“Does he look _that_ good at it?” She asked. Lommy nodded vehemently and even Hot Pie gave a shrug of agreement. “He’s fine,” Arya said. Lommy squealed. 

“So he’s good?” he asked. Arya narrowed her eyes at him.

“He’s _fine_ ,” she repeated. The truth was, Aegon was a rather good kisser. He was good at most things, if she was honest with herself. Cocky, sure, and not necessarily the most reciprocal of lovers, but Arya didn’t have a significant number of complaints about the physical aspect of their relationship. It was Aegon’s personality that was the problem. 

“He looks a whole lot more than fine in that video,” Lommy shrugged. Arya was almost glad Gendry wasn’t working til the afternoon. 

-

After the White Fawn show, Arya had been looking forward to closing up with Gendry this evening. Now, she felt like there was an unpleasant Aegon-shaped elephant in the room. She decided to bite the bullet as they unpacked a box of new releases. 

“Have you seen it?” she asked. Gendry looked up from his own box. 

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “Lommy forced it upon me while you were out on break.” He sounded apologetic. Arya sighed. 

“And?” She asked, doing her best to keep some humour in her voice. “Comments? Questions? Lommy had about forty that he’s bound to bring up when we play Truth later.” Gendry hesitated. 

“Sorry if this is an awkward one,” he said, looking at her to gauge her reaction. “But does he actually have ‘Fire’ and ‘Blood’ tattooed on his collarbones?” Arya snorted and Gendry grinned. 

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Yeah, he definitely does.” 

“So your type is dudes with bad tattoos, then?” He teased. Arya raised an eyebrow as she straightened her stack of records. 

“Why? You got one?” She asked. Gendry looked taken aback by her brazenness before smiling. A customer chose that moment to enter the store, forcing Arya to turn away from Gendry and offer them assistance. 

-

Sansa called Arya a few moments after the store closed. “I’m at work,” Arya said when she picked up.

“The shop’s not open, though, I checked,” Sansa said, “So I know you’re not, like, busy with customers or whatever.” 

“What’s going on, Sansa?” Arya asked. Gendry was sketching at the desk as Arya pulled down the front blinds. 

“You ignored my text. I’m guessing you’ve seen the video by now.”

“Yep.” 

“And?” Sansa demanded. “Have you talked to him?”

“Aegon?” Arya laughed. Gendry glanced up from his sketchbook momentarily. “Why would I talk to him?” There was a pause and Arya knew that Sansa was pinching the bridge of her nose impatiently on the other end. 

“He cast _Margaery Tyrell_ as you,” Sansa explained. “That’s, like, telling you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world without even saying anything.” Arya took a moment to attempt to wrap her head around Sansa’s thought process. 

“Casting a girl hotter than me as me is… a reason to call him?” She asked. Sansa scoffed. 

“He’s telling you that he could have anyone but he wants _you_ ,” she said. “He could have hired some blonde girl or someone who looked nothing like you!” Arya scratched her head. 

“Look, Sansa, I have to help Gendry close up, we’ve got loads to do still.” 

“Ah, the rude milk guy,” Sansa said. “Enjoy. And think about calling Aegon, okay? Give him a chance.” 

“Yeah, that one,” Arya said fondly. “And no.” 

“Arya, please,” Sansa sighed before catching herself. “Ah, sorry.” Arya laughed and bid her sister farewell again before hanging up. 

“Sorry about that,” Arya said. Gendry shrugged. 

“Not like I’m doing any work,” he said. “You’re wrong, though.”

“Hm?” Arya asked, pulling the Record of the Day down from its shelf. 

“She’s not hotter than you,” Gendry said. He was still sketching in his book, so he didn’t see Arya’s entire body stiffen at his words. What business did he have sounding so _sure_ about this?

“She is,” Arya said. “But it’s okay, she’s an Instagram model.” Gendry finally looked up at Arya again. 

“Okay,” he said. “She’s still not hotter than you.” Arya was almost annoyed by the conviction in his voice.

“Well it’s not as if it matters,” Arya said sharply. “She’s beautiful. Why does it matter which one of us is prettier? Aegon wants me to be jealous or flattered or hurt by him casting Margaery Tyrell for his little soft-porn video, but I refuse to be any of those things!” Gendry smiled and nodded. “I’m so sick of men taking women and treating us all like we’re vessels for them to use to express themselves, you know? I’m just a girl, I don’t want to be a muse.” Gendry quickly flipped his sketchbook shut and nodded again.

“Totally,” he said, twirling his pencil awkwardly. “You’re right, he’s being a dick. I only meant that, like… You’re very pretty. Not that that’s important. Just, you know, for the record - you’re beautiful.” Arya smiled as he stumbled through his words, feeling as though she might melt on the spot at the word ‘beautiful’. He was looking at her in a way that told her that he meant it.

She moved towards the desk and leaned forward on it. She looked up into his hesitant eyes across the counter, bluer than the summer sky. “For the record,” she said as they leaned closer to each other. “You’re beautiful, too.” He glanced down shyly and let out a little laugh before bringing his face to hers, his nose grazing her own. 

Sandor’s stomping feet coming down the stairs shocked them apart. “You two still here?” He asked when he appeared. “Think I left my painkillers down here.” Arya avoided Gendry’s eye and swallowed. Her cheeks felt very warm. 

“I think I saw them in the storage room,” she said, and Sandor thanked her as he set off to the backroom. Gendry rubbed his neck. 

“Lommy and Hot Pie are probably already up on the roof,” he said. “They’ll eat all the sushi if we don’t hurry up.” 

-

“Arya,” Lommy said before Arya could do more than crack open her can of beer. “Truth.” Arya sighed. 

“Alright,” she said. “Hit me.” 

“Aegon Targaryen - best you’ve ever had?” 

“Lommy,” Gendry warned. Arya considered the question.

“Truthfully, yes.” She said. “He’s incomparable.” Lommy grinned and Gendry was suddenly very interested in the tab of his can. “Incomparable because I’ve never slept with anyone else.” Lommy gasped and Gendry looked up. 

“Wait,” Lommy said. “So is he ...bad?” Arya shrugged. 

“He was perfectly fine,” she said. “I won’t know how good he is until I try it with someone else.” She knew Gendry could feel his eyes on her, but he stared decidedly forward, sipping his beer as casually as he could. “He definitely didn’t make me moan and giggle quite as much as the girl in the video did.” Arya couldn’t tell if this conversation was pissing Gendry off or turning him on. Perhaps both. Either way, she liked the way his jaw seemed to be twitching. 

Lommy sighed longingly and Hot Pie chose this moment to demand that Lommy tell the truth about whether or not he had eaten the sushi with cream cheese in it, even though it would definitely make him feel sick. Lommy made a guilty face. Hot Pie rolled his eyes and muttered something about self care. 

-

Lommy’s urgent need for a bathroom sent them all home earlier than usual. Arya waited at the train station with Gendry, doing her best not to hyperfixate on how close his lips had been to hers only a couple of hours ago. 

He was far too cute for his own good, really. He stood a foot taller than her despite his questionable posture, and his hair fell in his face in a careless way that even Aegon’s best stylists couldn’t achieve if they tried. His sketchbook was tucked under his arm and she noticed now that his pencil was sitting behind his ear. Gods, he was pretty.

“So that concert was pretty great, right?” She said. 

“It was amazing,” he agreed. “I look forward to reading your review.” Arya frowned. 

“Oh, I’m not writing a review,” she laughed. “I haven’t published anything in a while.” Gendry knit his brow. 

“Why not?” he asked. “I thought you said the campus paper still ran in the summer.” 

“It does,” Arya said. “It’s just not worth it right now. Everything I write got inundated with comments about Aegon and the song.” She shrugged. Gendry looked troubled at this. 

“That’s hardly fair,” he said. “You should still get to write.”

“My editor thinks so, too,” Arya insisted. “But I’m sort of waiting for it to blow over. No one takes your music opinions seriously when you’re the girl who fucked Aegon Targaryen and inspired him to write that monstrosity.” 

“Fuck that,” Gendry said, his voice harsh with frustration. “That’s total bullshit.” 

“Sure,” Arya agreed with a shrug. “It’s also the truth.” Gendry thought for a moment, frowning. 

“Listen, Arya,” he said. “Fuck all of that.” The train she was supposed to get on was now approaching the station. “Grey Worm’s album release party is next Friday. He’d be absolutely thrilled to chat with you, I know it. He loves a bit of free press.” He looked at her searchingly. “C’mon, an exclusive interview with _the_ rising star of the King’s Landing grime scene. Your editor would never forgive you for turning that down.” He seemed to sense her hesitation and his face grew serious. “You’re a writer. You have to write.” She felt altogether far too affected by the earnestness in his eyes. 

“Fine,” she said. The train doors opened and she stepped inside. “It’s a date.” His eyes went wide and the train sped off, leaving her with the image of him grinning stupidly on the platform.


	4. track 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i call this "the chapter that doesn't really have a plot, but they go on a date so hopefully it's still fun to read" :)

Gendry didn’t act all that differently around Arya in the week leading up to their date. He seemed a little more willing to let her see his smile when she arrived for work, and when it was his turn to pick the music, he played The Black Pearls’ latest album (prompting Hot Pie to comment on his unusually upbeat selection). But it felt mostly the same as usual, really. He would sketch while she spoke to customers, and they would lock eyes in exasperation every time Lommy brought up the ‘thirst traps’ that Aegon shared on his Instagram stories. 

“You are crazy for dumping him, honestly,” Lommy said, shaking his head. “His abs are glorious.” Arya rolled her eyes. They stood on the sidewalk, pulling down the out-of-date upcoming concert posters from the front window. Gendry was inside at the computer, looking rather bored as printed out new ones. His pencil was tucked behind his ear again and he bopped his head along to the music.

“You sound like my sister,” Arya said impatiently. “As if I should be swooning because he’s handsome and wrote a sappy song about me.” Lommy merely shrugged. 

“It’d be enough for me.” 

“I mean it when I saw that you could do better,” Arya said. “Besides, I’ve moved on.” She glanced inside and caught Gendry’s eye. He smiled sheepishly and turned back to his work.

“Oh, have you?” Lommy said, perking up at this. “Go on, who is it?” Arya raised her eyebrows. She thought it would have been rather obvious.

“Gendry,” she said. Lommy blinked at her and burst out laughing. Arya frowned.

“Gods,” Lommy wheezed. “I can’t say I blame you, but don’t get your hopes up. Gendry doesn’t date.” 

“What do you mean?” Arya asked. Her insides felt a bit funny. She knew Gendry was into her, but a wave of concern washed over her. Had she been stupid enough to misinterpret some mutual physical attraction for something deeper? 

“He just doesn’t,” Lommy said. “He could have any girl he looked at, but he’s never interested. Too busy sulking into his sketchbook to take advantage of his good looks.” He sighed. “Such a waste.” 

“We’re going out on Friday,” Arya said, still a little unsure. It _was_ a date, surely. Gendry did not seem to have any qualms with her declaring it so - in fact, he had seemed rather happy about it. Lommy’s mouth had fallen open. 

“Are you serious?” he asked. Arya nodded. 

“We’re going to Grey Worm’s release party,” she explained. Lommy still looked shocked. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Gendry is going to steal _Aegon Targaryen’s_ girl? _Gendry_?” 

“He’s not stealing me,” Arya said, annoyed. “I’m not anyone’s girl.” Lommy shook his head.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, before staring at her very seriously. “Arya, Gendry doesn’t like people. He must be properly into you if he asked you out.”

“Well, good,” Arya said, feeling a little warm in the face. “Cause I’m properly into him. I thought I was being rather obvious about that.” 

“And here I was trying to convince you to take Aegon back,” Lommy said, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Oh, Gods, this makes so much sense. You made him a mixed tape!”

-

“So, Hot Pie,” Lommy said, handing Arya another disc that had been donated to their used collection. Gendry was helping Hot Pie restock some new releases. “Were you aware that these two are hooking up?” Gendry froze and Hot Pie gasped dramatically. 

“I knew it,” Hot Pie said. 

“We’re not _hooking up_ ,” Arya spat, glaring at Lommy. “We’re going on a date.” Lommy shrugged. 

“Yeah, during which one of you will inevitably make a move,” he said. “My money’s on you, Arya, cause I’ve never seen Gendry take initiative with anything.”

“Hey,” Gendry protested. “I don’t see how any of this is your business.” Hot Pie let out a noise of protest. 

“Of course it’s our business if you two are fucking,” Hot Pie said. “Totally changes the dynamics of Truth.” Gendry’s ears went pink and he scowled. 

“We’re not -,” 

“But you _will_ , surely,” Lommy explained, sounding as though he had always expected them to, and not at all as though he had been shocked at the very thought of Gendry’s interest in Arya mere hours earlier. Gendry looked as though he would like to disappear entirely. Arya thought he was rather cute when he blushed, but she gave Lommy a stern look anyway. 

“Keep your noses out,” she said. Lommy held his hands up in defeat. 

“Fine,” he said. “But Gendry, I have to ask - does Barra know you’re spoiling all of her hopes and dreams?” Lommy snorted as Gendry scowled even deeper. “She’s going to be heartbroken when you’ve found out you’ve stolen Aegon’s girl.”

“She’ll live,” Gendry grumbled, still looking rather desperate for a change in topic. “And Arya’s not _Aegon’s girl_.” Arya smiled as she returned to her stack of used records. His words left her in an embarrassingly good mood for the rest of the day. 

-

“So what’s the vibe for tonight?” Arya asked on Friday morning. It was just her and Gendry for now - Lommy and Hot Pie would be closing that evening. “Jeans and a t-shirt? Or should I wear a dress?” Gendry looked up at her. She was helping every customer that dropped in, but beyond that, Arya had tossed any pretense of working out the window. She was perched on the counter top and Gendry was sitting on a stool, his boots up on the counter beside her. He was busy sketching, but she couldn’t see his page - he was far too shy about his artwork, and hardly ever let her see what he was working on anymore. 

“Um,” Gendry said, “Anything you’d like to wear, I guess.” He tucked his pencil behind his ear and flipped his sketchbook shut. Arya sighed. 

“You’re no help,” she said. Gendry looked at her for a moment, thinking.

“I liked that skirt,” he said. “The grey one with the red bits.” Arya snorted. 

“Oh, the shortest skirt I own?” she laughed. “Because of the pattern, right?” Gendry grinned. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he agreed. “Big fan of tartan.” He nudged her thigh with one of his boots. “Same with that shirt you took off at the concert. That was a really nice plaid. Couldn’t take my eyes off of it.” Arya liked the way his eyes crinkled as he teased her. 

“You’re gonna regret this when I show up in a full Shae Horowitz get-up,” she said. Gendry laughed at the reference and pulled his feet off the counter, standing up and setting his sketchbook on the counter. 

“I’m pretty sure you could turn up in Clegane’s ‘Big Dog’ shirt and I’d still think you were out of my league.” He looked rather happy with the blush his words elicited, but his smile disappeared as the door chimed. Arya hopped off the counter to help the customer, but she sighed when she turned. It was only Sansa again. 

Her sister was holding two iced drinks with mockingbird logos on the cups and she looked as perfectly put together as always. Sansa’s eyes flickered between Arya and Gendry briefly before she smiled at Arya. “Hello,” she said. “I brought you iced tea!” 

“Hi, Sansa,” Arya said, accepting the drink graciously. “That’s very nice of you. You came all the way to Fleabottom just to get me a drink?” Sansa put a hand to her chest in mock offense. 

“Okay, suspicious much?” She said. “I’m actually here to hang out at a café while Jeyne meets a Tinder date. Last time was a nightmare, so she wants someone around to interrupt if he turns out to be another freak.” Arya felt bad now, assuming that her sister had some ulterior motive. The phone rang and Gendry grabbed it. 

“Yeah?” he said lazily, turning away from the sisters to grab a notepad. Sansa frowned at his back, bewildered. 

“Is that a customer he’s talking to?” she whispered. Arya nodded, biting back a smile. 

“Yeah, this is Houndbite,” Gendry carried on. Sansa winced and shook her head. 

“Anyway,” she said, her voice quiet enough that Arya had to lean forward to hear her properly. “While I’m here, I thought I’d see what you were doing tonight. We’ve barely spoken since Aegon’s video dropped and I feel like you probably need to chat about that, right?” Arya shook her head. 

“Sansa, honestly, I don’t care about the video,” she said. Sansa looked disappointed. “And I’m busy tonight. I’m going to a party with Gendry.” Sansa’s eyebrows shot up. 

“As in... _with_ him?” She asked, evidently concerned. Arya nodded. 

“Yep,” she said happily. “With him. Like a date.” Sansa’s face fell. 

“Oh, Arya,” she glanced at Gendry’s back as she spoke in a hushed tone. “If this is to get back at Aegon -,” 

“It’s got nothing to do with Aegon,” Arya hissed. 

“You don't have to hook up with some random music store guy to prove -,”

“Sansa,” Arya whispered sharply. “I _like_ him.” Sansa made a pitying face. 

“Oh, spare me. You only like whatever will piss people off the most,” Sansa said. Gendry hung up the phone before Arya could retort.

“Some lady has a bunch of donations she’s gonna drop off tomorrow,” he nodded at Arya. “I made a note for Clegane but remind me to tell Lommy, too.” Arya nodded, her mind still focused on Sansa’s completely unfair assumption. 

“Anyway,” Sansa said. “Next Friday, Arya? Can we please catch up? I feel like I’m very out of the loop.” 

“Fine,” Arya snapped. If she was honest, she wouldn’t mind an evening alone with Sansa to tell her off and set a few things straight. 

“Lovely,” Sansa said. “I’ll bring wine and goodies, okay?”

“Sure,” Arya agreed. “Bye, Sansa!” 

“Bye bye!” Sansa said with a little wave as she departed. 

“Sorry about her,” Arya said. Gendry shrugged. He didn’t seem to have overheard the exchange that had occurred during his phone call.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked. “I love it when customers don’t speak to me or look at me. You know that.” 

-

The buzzer rang and Arya gave up on trying to tease more volume into her hair. She gave herself a final onceover in the mirror.

She looked alright, she thought. She had worn a skirt, but not the plaid one. Instead, she had opted for a higher waisted black one with buttons up the front paired with tights and her Docs. She had flipped between band shirts and cute blouses until she finally gave up and went with a plain white tee. It wasn’t exactly a showstopping get-up, but she felt cute enough to descend into the front hall as Arianne opened the door. 

He wore a dark t-shirt and jeans and it was hardly different from what he wore to work every day, but Arya couldn’t help but think he looked better than usual. Maybe it was just the knowledge that he was here to pick her up for a date that made her stomach flip when their eyes met. 

“Hi,” he breathed. 

“Hi,” Arianne interrupted. “We didn’t get introduced properly. I’m Arianne.” Gendry blinked at Arya before turning to Arianne. 

“Hi,” he said, shaking her hand. “Gendry.” 

“I know,” Arianne smiled. “Arya’s discussed you at length.” Gendry looked far too pleased by this, prompting Arya to grab his arm and pull him out the door. 

“Have fun tonight!” She called back to her friends as she led Gendry down the front steps. Meera and Arianne were going out dancing with some other girls from school. They waved and Meera gave Arya a big thumbs up as Gendry opened up the door to his car. 

“Hi,” she said, smiling up at him. “You look good.” Gendry raised his eyebrows and looked her up and down. 

“You can talk,” he said. She slid into the car and he closed the door. The car was relatively nondescript, an older model that had clearly been looked after. Gendry turned the key to start the car and immediately, Dareon’s voice began playing loudly from the stereo. Gendry jumped and hastily turned the volume down. Arya grinned. 

“Thought you didn’t ‘get’ him,” she teased. 

“I’m trying to,” he said, his ears pink as he pulled out of his parking spot. “Because other than this song, your CD is a no-skip disc.” It was Arya’s turn to blush now. 

“You caved on pop music pretty easy,” she said. “Now I’ve just got to convince you to dance with me.” Gendry glanced at her legs and met her eyes before looking back at the road.

“Don’t think you’ll find too much resistance on that front,” he said. He turned the stereo up as ‘My Featherbed’ started playing. “Not a pop song,” he commented as the drums kicked in. 

The sun was setting, illuminating Gendry’s face golden and pink. Despite every cell in her body feeling alive with nervous excitement, Arya felt a sort of comfort that she had never felt on a date before. It was like hanging out with a friend, only she wanted to make out with said friend. A lot.

She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness about the song, but couldn’t stop herself from grinning and reaching over to turn the music up even louder.

-

Grey Worm’s party was being hosted in a little club in Fleabottom, not far from where Lommy and Hot Pie were currently closing up shop. The bouncer grinned at Gendry and let him in without question, nodding politely to Arya as Gendry took her hand and led her in. 

It was packed inside and the music was low. Gendry weaved his way through the people, not letting go of Arya’s hand. “Do you want a drink?” he asked, stopping suddenly when they were in sight of the bar. Arya shook her head and he continued, past a merch table (which featured the shirt that Arya had very nearly bought for herself when she had seen Grey Worm back in January), alongside the little stage, and to a booth where the man of the hour sat with his phone to his ear. 

“Gendry!” Grey Worm cried, hopping to his feet and hanging up his phone. He brought Gendry in for a hug before looking at Arya and raising his eyebrows. “And this must be the Arya he won’t shut up about.” Arya nodded and shook Grey Worm’s outstretched hand, not missing the look of annoyance Gendry shot his friend. 

“Hi,” she said. “Congrats on the release.” Grey Worm smiled warmly. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Think it turned out alright considering it was recorded in the cheapest studio space in the city.” He shrugged. 

“It sounds great, Grey.” Gendry said. Arya looked at Grey Worm. 

“Is your name actually Grey?” She had always assumed it was a stage name. Gendry grinned and Grey Worm sighed. 

“I don’t know my official birth name, but the rich freaks that adopted me named me Nathaniel Sullivan Grey-Warmington III,” he said. “I’ve gone by Grey since I was a teenager.” Arya’s lips parted in surprise and Gendry chuckled. 

“You two have a lot in common actually,” he said. “My only posh friends. You can bond over tea and crumpets or whatever.” Arya and Grey both gave Gendry the same look of confusion, causing him to hold his hands up in defeat. “I don’t know what it is that your sort do!” 

“Get cut off for pursuing music instead of economics,” Grey said. Arya winced but Gendry clapped his friend on the shoulder and motioned around the crowded room.

“No economist has ever made this many people happy,” he said. “You’re better off.” 

“Agreed,” Grey grinned. “Now, Arya, I hear you’re willing to offer me some free promotion?” 

Arya nodded. “The campus paper isn’t exactly the Times,” she said. “But I’d love to run a piece about your album - and about yourself in general, because I had no idea you had, like, five names.” Grey slid back into the booth and motioned for Arya and Gendry to join him. 

“I’ve got an hour to kill before I’ve got to set shit up,” he nodded at the stage. “Let’s chat!” 

-

In her young career as a campus journalist, Arya hadn’t interviewed all that many people. Low bar aside, Grey Worm made for a wonderful subject. He was easygoing and enthusiastic, eager to talk about his writing process and his struggles finding affordable studio space, as well as his unique upbringing and his favourite spots to watch live music in the city. He was funny and charming and Arya felt deeply flattered by how excited he was to see the piece published. 

“That was way more fun than being asked how I feel about being ‘an up-and-comer in the King’s Landing rap scene’ for the fiftieth time,” Grey said as Arya stopped the recording on her phone and saved the voice memo. “Or, like, being asked about beef I’ve got nothing to do with.” Arya tucked her phone away. 

“It’s only the campus paper,” she reminded him. “But I do think people will like reading about someone new who isn’t named Aegon Targaryen.” Gendry let out a shallow laugh and Grey nodded. 

“I promise not to write a song about you,” he said with mock sincerity. 

“Maybe you should,” Gendry said. “It seems to be a foolproof way to reach number one, even if your talents are, uh... limited.” Arya grinned at both of them and Grey’s sound guy came by to bring him backstage. 

-

“Sorry this isn’t the most romantic date,” Gendry said. Arya raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain. “I just mean that there’s a lot of people around and it’s sort of loud and we can’t really talk much.” 

“I’m having fun,” Arya said. “We can find somewhere quiet and cozy for our second date.” Gendry’s face lit up at the words ‘second date’. He accepted the hand she had offered him as she led him toward the stage, where an audience was forming for Grey Worm’s set.

-

The show was great, made only better by the fact that Arya got to take it all in with her back to Gendry’s chest. She backed into him to let someone by, but his arms reached around her front and she relaxed against him. She decided, as she felt his heartbeat against her shoulder blade, that this was her new preferred way to experience shows. 

“He’s brilliant,” Arya said, joining in with the applause as Grey concluded with his oldest and most popular song. The house music started up again and Gendry released Arya’s waist. “If I buy the record directly from Grey, do you promise not to tell Sandor?” Gendry laughed and nodded. Sandor had been deeply offended the week prior when Lommy had mentioned that he had ordered the latest Marillion album online, instead of buying from Houndbite. 

When they reached the front of the merch line, Arya picked up a record and admired it, handing the merch guy a twenty. She hadn’t noticed until now that the same art from the t-shirt she had loved was also on the album cover. The illustration was done in the style that Arya had always wanted tattooed on her - lineart that was too intricate to be called minimalist, but not complicated enough to be gaudy. It showed a dirty earthworm wrapped around a spear. It should have looked silly, a worm against a weapon, but somehow it was perfect. 

“I sort of want the shirt, too,” Arya admitted, tracing the worm on the record sleeve. “What do you think? The one with the worm on the breast is so cute.” Gendry raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” he said, “You don’t have to buy that, I’ve got a whole box in my house.” Arya frowned. 

“What?” she laughed, allowing him to guide her away from the line-up. “Why’ve you got a box of his shirts at home?” 

“We had to do a bunch of test prints to make sure the art placement looked alright. I’m almost positive I’ve got one that would fit you.” It all clicked in Arya’s brain as he spoke. She froze and grabbed his arm. 

“You drew this?” she demanded. He nodded and shrugged at once, not looking at her. She stared at him. “Gendry, this is amazing. I was _this_ close to buying a shirt back in January but Arianne refused to wait in line with me.” It was too dark to see him blush, but she could tell he was embarrassed.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just messing around and he liked it, so…,” he trailed off, clearly unsure of what to say. 

“Do you do tattoos?” Arya asked, enjoying how quickly his eyes widened. 

“Uh, I’ve designed a few, yeah,” Gendry said. He swallowed. “Do you want one?” Arya nodded. 

“Not sure what of yet,” she admitted. “A wolf, maybe. Or maybe some coldsnaps. I’ll let you know when I decide, though. If you’re designing the tattoo, you might have a good idea of where I should put it.” Gendry exhaled heavily and nodded. 

“Sounds good,” he nodded. Grey Worm arrived between them and saved Gendry from articulating any more thoughts on tattooing his work somewhere on Arya’s body. They praised his performance and congratulated him again before Grey looked at Arya seriously. 

“Listen,” he said, “I didn’t want to bring this up in the name of professionalism, but I’m on a show high right now so I’m just going to go for it.” Gendry stiffened and Grey shoved him lightly. “Relax, Waters, I’m not trying to steal your date.” He turned back to Arya. “Do you know the fashion girl?” Gendry frowned, but Arya knew immediately what Grey was on about. 

“Missandei?” she said, and Grey’s eyes lit up. 

“You know her!” he said. “She writes about fashion in that school paper,” he explained to Gendry. “I’ve followed her on Instagram for ages but I don’t want to be that creep in her DMs.” Arya nodded knowingly, sensing where this was headed. “If she’s single, how would you feel about putting a word in for me?” 

“She is single,” Arya said, “but she’s back home in Naath for the summer. She won’t be back in King’s Landing until the fall semester starts.” Grey Worm nodded, still looking optimistic. “I’ll see what I can do.” Grey Worm fistpumped and kissed Arya on the side of the head. 

“You are the best,” he said. “Gendry, she is the best.” He grinned as he walked away, leaving Arya and Gendry equally bemused. Gendry composed himself and nodded at the door. 

“You wanna get some air?” he asked. Arya nodded and took his hand. 

-

They walked the streets aimlessly, debating which of Grey Worm’s tracks was most likely to be a hit and hypothesizing about the questions that Lommy and Hot Pie would bombard them with during their next shifts. Gendry’s hand remained clasped over Arya’s the entire time. 

“I didn’t get you dancing,” she lamented. Gendry shrugged. 

“I’m not big on PDA,” he said. She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s only dancing,” she said, knocking into his shoulder playfully. “It’s hardly a _display_ of anything.” Gendry hummed, as though he was considering this point.

“I think I’d have trouble remembering that if we had danced,” he admitted. “Probably would have kissed you.” 

“And that would have been such a bad thing?” She asked. He smiled. 

“I just think I’d prefer to do that when we’re alone,” he said casually. Arya felt a tingle down her spine at his words. 

“You know,” she mused, “I do think Lommy and Hot Pie will be scandalized when they hear that Grey Worm kissed me before you did.” Gendry let out a little laugh - Arya couldn’t tell if it was exasperated, amused, or nervous. Perhaps all three. 

“Who says I’m going to kiss you at all?” He asked, but he had stopped walking and spun her to face him. Arya looked up at him. His eyes were dark and she stepped closer, emboldened by the way he glanced at her lips. He was too far away - she stood on her tiptoes as he leaned down, his hand coming up to hold her face. 

_Brrring_

Arya froze and Gendry let out a frustrated breath. Part of her wanted to ignore the phone call and carry on with what she had been about to do, but another loud _brrring_ made her grit her teeth and step away from Gendry. She pulled the phone out to see Arianne’s name on the screen and she sighed. If Arianne was interrupting her date, Arya figured it must be pretty urgent. “Sorry,” she said, glancing back at Gendry. He nodded, pushing his hair back and looking aimlessly down the street. 

“Hi,” Arya said. “This better be good.” 

“Arya,” Arianne cried. “Thank the gods. We’re trapped.” Arya could practically taste the rum on her friend’s breath through the phone.

“Trapped?” 

“Outside. Have you got your keys?” Arianne carried on. “I dropped mine down the gutter. Meera, get up, you’re not going to reach them - _Meera!_ Get off the road.” There was some shuffling and giggling and Arya heard Meera say “Fine!” 

“I can be there in fifteen,” Arya sighed. 

“Oh, you’re the best!” Arianne squealed. “I swear we’d be happy to sit on the front step til you’re home, only we weren’t sure when that would be and that weird guy across the road has invited us in for a drink and is looking out from his front room at us. And Meera has to pee.” She said this all very quickly, with a bit of a slur to her voice. 

“I do!! Hiii, Arya!” Meera called from the background. “How’s Gendry?”

“I’ll see you both shortly,” Arya said dully. “Don’t try to get the keys again, alright?” She hung up and glanced up at Gendry, who was looking at her curiously. 

“Somewhere to be?” he asked.

“My friends owe me for this,” she said miserably. 

-

The city was quiet as Gendry drove her home. He kept the music turned down and his eyes on the road. “Sorry about this,” Arya said. “I’d tell them to sit and wait, only they’re very drunk and I can’t trust Arianne not to end up befriending the weird guy across the road.” She looked at Gendry and was pleased to see a smile on his lips. 

“No need to apologize,” he said. His voice was light, but Arya could still sense some disappointment. She was glad she was not alone in that. “You’re being a good friend.” 

“Yeah,” Arya sighed. “Thanks for tonight, though, really. I had a great time.” 

“Me too,” Gendry said. “I’ll have to remember to bring you that shirt on Sunday. What size are you? Youth double-extra-small?” 

“Hah,” Arya said flatly, “You got me. Not all of us can have biceps the size of normal people’s thighs.” Gendry grinned. 

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she said. Arya tore her eyes away from him and was disappointed to see that they were only a block away from her flat. “So I’ll see you at work then?” She asked. 

“Yep,” he said. “Think it’s just us all morning.” Arya smiled to herself, embarrassed by how much her heart enjoyed the cheerfulness in his voice. He stopped the car outside her flat, where Arianne and Meera jumped up from the step and waved. Arianne blew them a two-handed kiss. 

“Thanks again,” Arya said, glancing back up at him before retrieving her bag and her new record from the back seat. “See you Sunday,” she smiled, reaching for the door handle. 

“Arya,” Gendry said. She turned back to him and he caught her face in his hand, leaning forward to press a brief, searing kiss on her lips. It was heated and eager and perfect and over far too quickly. She reached a hand up to her lips as he pulled away, a little overwhelmed by the way they felt as though they were tingling. “Go help your friends,” he nodded, smiling at her apparent speechlessness. She blinked and remembered herself. 

Arya stepped out of the car, feeling a bit like she was floating, and pulled her keys out of her bag. She was certain that her friends had seen Gendry kiss her and she was certain that they would want to spend the rest of the night breaking down every minute detail of her date and she was certain that she would happily relive it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wear a mask, sign a petition today, and look after yourself xx


	5. track 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it was about time we met aegon in the flesh x

Arya found that, having not written anything in weeks, words came to her easily. It was as if they had been desperate to get out the whole time, flowing right onto her keyboard from Saturday morning until the late afternoon. Her piece on Grey Worm was half an album review and half a profile, but she felt deeply pleased with it when she sent it in to her editor - the school paper had wanted the article as soon as she could manage it, hoping to publish it in time to ride the wave of local hype Grey’s album was garnering. 

It felt good to write again. She hoped that the comment section would focus on Grey and _not_ be filled with questions about her relationship with Aegon Targaryen. 

-

She brought her notebook into work on Sunday - the piece seemed to have awakened something in her, filling her head with pitches she wanted to bring to the paper. When the store was quiet and their morning tasks complete, Arya outlined articles while Gendry sketched quietly. 

“D’you think anyone would care if I wrote a million words about how ahead of her time Missy Blackwood was?” Arya mused. “Or are people over the 80s?” Gendry considered the question. 

“I think she’s about due for a renaissance,” he said. “I was listening to her first album yesterday, she was unbelievable.” Arya grinned and continued making a list of current musical acts that borrowed from Blackwood’s sound. 

-

“What?” Gendry asked, not looking up. She had been watching him for a while now, admiring the way he pursed his lips as he shaded. His hair was falling in his face - he had to push it out of the way every few minutes. 

“Nothing,” she lied. He met her eyes now and raised his brows. “I just wish you had given me a chance on Friday night.” 

“A chance?” Gendry asked. 

“A chance to kiss you back,” Arya clarified. 

“Oh,” Gendry said, looking both embarrassed and pleased with himself. “I’m not stopping you.” He closed his sketchbook and crossed his arms. 

“We’re at work, Gendry,” she said with false disapproval as she flipped her notebook shut and stepped towards him. “Sandor would be furious.” Gendry shrugged. 

“And?” 

“And,” she said, closing the distance between them. “As soon as I do it, some customer is going to walk through that door and interrupt us. I don’t want to be interrupted.” She smiled at the look of disappointment on his face. As if on cue, the phone rang. “See?” She laughed, stepping around him to grab the receiver. “Houndbite Records, what can I do for you?”

-

Lommy and Hot Pie arrived for the closing shift and insisted that Arya tell them _everything_ about the date. 

“Well?” Hot Pie demanded. “Did he behave? Was he nice?”

“Did you kiss him?” Lommy asked. 

“I’m right here,” Gendry said, tucking his sketchbook under his arm and scowling at his coworkers. “Arya, you have plans right now?” Arya shook her head and followed him as he headed out the door.

“To answer your questions,” she said as she looked back to Lommy and Hot Pie. “Yes, yes, and no. He kissed me.” Lommy clutched his face in excited agony and Hot Pie beamed. 

-

“So, where to?” Gendry asked. Arya shrugged. 

“You’re the one who suggested we hang out,” she pointed out. A thought struck her and she smiled. “You forgot to bring me my shirt,” she said casually. 

“Ah, shit, right. Sorry about that. I’ll bring it tomorrow,” Gendry offered. Arya hummed. 

“I mean, we could always go pick it up,” she suggested, hoping he wouldn’t mind that she had just herself over. Gendry had finally caught up to what Arya was implying. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, let’s go back to mine.” He fished his car keys out of his back pocket. “Glad I drove today.” Arya laughed and followed him to his car. 

“In a rush now, are we?” She teased as she slid into the passenger seat and he turned the key, ignoring her beyond a faint smile. Her CD was still playing from his stereo. 

-

“It’s sort of a shithole,” Gendry said, opening the door to his apartment. It was in a rundown estate further into Fleabottom than Arya had ever been. “It was my mum’s. When she died, the landlord let me stick around rent-free ‘til I turned eighteen, and has always been alright if I’m a week late with the cheque every now and then. Good bloke.” Arya looked at him. He appeared sort of apprehensive. 

“Gendry, I had no idea,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry.” He shrugged. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “She wasn’t well.” He kicked a pair of shoes out of the way and led Arya in. The little kitchen was simple and rather grey, and the living room was the same. The only pop of colour was a desk by the back window that was covered in paints and pastels. “I’m hoping to move out once I’ve left school and found proper work,” he shrugged, still sounding a little nervous as Arya moved towards his desk. 

“Wow,” she breathed, picking up a little watercolour painting of a sunset across a cityscape. “This is the view from the roof of Houndbite.” He nodded. She admired a somewhat cartoonish doodle of Sandor Clegane and a little sketch of some roses before her eyes drifted upwards and she into a pair of warm brown eyes framed by golden hair. “Is that your mum?” Arya asked. Gendry nodded. “She’s beautiful. They’re all beautiful.” She turned to him. “How are you so good at this?” 

“Er,” he said, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “I practice, I suppose?” 

“No, really,” Arya said, setting down the painting of the sunset. “You use a pencil all day at work, but you can also _paint_?” He frowned. 

“They’re not so different,” he said, leaning over her slightly. “Look,” he pointed at the black pen lines on the watercolour. “That lineart is pretty much the same as what I do with a pencil, only without the shading. I’ve used a pen here, obviously, but the process is mostly the same.” He frowned at the piece. “I’m not great with colour, though. My summer course prof wants me to practice with watercolours to get a handle on them - this sunset was supposed to be pinker, but it wouldn’t show up properly no matter what I tried. And my mum’s eyes should be more hazel than brown.” He stopped talking, looking a little surprised at his own wordiness. 

“They’re all amazing,” Arya said as she admired them again. She looked back up at him and found his eyes already trained on her. Without a second thought, she leaned forwards and upwards to plant her lips on his. It was slow, a delicate exchange as he tilted his head down so that she didn’t have to reach so much. Gendry placed one hand on her waist and the other came up to cup her face as she moved her lips against his. “See what I mean?” she said quietly as she caught her breath. “So much better without interruptions.” He kissed her again, deep and unhurried in a way that felt quite unfair considering how rapidly her heart was beating. He pulled away and smiled at her look of disappointment. 

“Let me grab you that shirt before I get too distracted,” he said. He moved to the door of what Arya could only presume was his bedroom. She followed him in, admiring the posters on the wall. 

“I should have known you loved Dark Sister,” she commented as she perched herself on the end of his bed. “Moody art guys always have a Dark Sister phase.” 

“We do, don’t we?” he agreed, kneeling down to rifle through a cardboard box. “Here,” he said. “A youth medium might fit you.” He tossed a folded shirt to her and continued to dig in the box. She pulled her tank top off and slid the Grey Worm shirt on. Gendry missed her brief moment of toplessness - his nose was still in amongst the test shirts. 

“It’s a bit big,” she said. “I like an oversized shirt, but if there’s a small -,” 

“Got it!” Gendry said, standing up and turning to face her with another tee in hand. He blinked at her tank top on the bed and at her current, slightly-too-large shirt. 

“Perfect,” Arya said, tugging the medium tee over her head and stepping forward to pluck the small shirt from Gendry’s frozen hands. She was glad she had chosen to wear her favourite black bra today. She allowed his eyes a moment to travel down her torso before she tugged the shirt on and looked down appreciatively at the fit. “How does it look?” She asked. Gendry nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you look good.” Arya smiled. 

“Thanks,” she said. She picked around his room nosily, stopping at the old record player on the far side of his bed. “Missy Blackwood,” Arya grinned. “You actually had been listening to her.” 

“Did you think I’d lied?” Gendry laughed. “You can turn it on if you want.” Arya did so, placing the needle down carefully and turning around as the first few notes of the record played. She found that Gendry was now standing quite close to her. 

-

If there was a better way to spend an afternoon, Arya had yet to experience it. He kissed her lips and her jaw and her neck and told her she was wrong for thinking that “Running up High Hill” was a better Missy Blackwood song than “Wuthering Vales”. They debated her discography between kisses, stopping only to flip to the second side of the record. 

Gendry seemed set on drawing things out, his kisses languid and deliberate. As willing as Arya would have been to get right to it and have sex with him then and there, there was something nice about his unhurried approach. With Aegon, it had always been a frantic affair with immediate gratification (...for Aegon, that is. Gratification for Arya had occurred on a case-by-case basis in that relationship). She knew that Gendry _wanted_ her - it was clear in the way he kissed her and the way his hand ran under the hem of the shirt he had just given her, gripping her waist as she tugged at his bottom lip. But she knew they had time, that there would be many other opportunities for her to acquaint herself with Gendry’s body and let him get to know hers. For now, exchanging kisses as good music played felt perfect. 

Some stomping and loud voices from above made Gendry pull away and frown at his ceiling. “Sorry about that,” he grumbled. “Loud neighbours.” 

“It’s alright,” Arya laughed. “Better than loud roommates.” He nodded, still frowning. 

“I can’t wait to graduate,” he said. “But for now the rent is too good here to pass up while I’ve got fees to pay, you know?” 

“That makes perfect sense,” Arya said. One of the upstairs neighbours yelled something about doing the dishes and Gendry groaned. 

“My dad keeps trying to bribe me into his good books by offering me one of his many homes,” Gendry said derisively. “He doesn’t seem to get that I’d rather live in my dead mum’s shitty apartment than accept even a dime from him.” Arya touched the lines that had appeared on his face as he frowned. 

“You’re going to become some famous artist anyway,” she said. “You won’t need anything from him.” He rolled his eyes at her. “No, I mean it,” she insisted. “Look at this shirt.” She tugged at her brand new t-shirt. “It’s beautiful!” Gendry, clearly not interested in gushing over his own talents, chose instead to flip her onto her back and position himself above her. 

“Speaking of beautiful,” he said. He grazed her lips lightly, forcing her to lift her head off of the pillow to deepen the kiss. 

“You are never allowed to call Aegon corny again after that,” she joked, and he laughed against her cheek before drawing his lips beneath her jaw.

-

Arya left, lips swollen and heart aflutter, with enough time to get home and cook her roommates dinner. It was her turn to organize the meal, and as tempting as it was to order them pizza and spend the rest of the evening in Gendry’s bed, Arya knew she really shouldn’t bail on her friends. She did accept Gendry’s ride home, though, and enjoyed the way he tapped along to her mixed tape on his steering wheel. 

“Aren’t you sick of this yet?” she asked, sincerely hoping that he wasn’t. 

“Not at all,” he said. “It’s still a whole new world for me, pop music.”

“There are more than ten good songs, though,” she said. “I can make you another if you want.” Gendry stopped tapping on the steering wheel and nodded. 

“I’d love that, yeah,” he said. “If you have time, I mean.” 

“Of course,” Arya said, pleased with how happy he looked at the prospect. 

“I tried to make you one,” he admitted after a minute of silence. Arya felt a rush of warmth from head to toe. “But it’s pretty much just a playlist of some songs we’ve listened to during our shifts. Not exactly cohesive or groundbreaking, and my computer doesn’t let me burn discs properly anyway, so -,” 

“Gendry,” Arya cut in. “Can you send me the playlist anyway? Like, online or whatever?” He nodded. 

“Yeah, definitely. Like I said, it’s not exactly anything new. Just songs that remind me of you,” he said. “And, you know, work and stuff.” Arya grinned. 

“As long as “Arya, Please” isn’t on it, I’m pretty sure I’ll adore it.” 

-

Meera and Arianne were around to help Arya cook, so the girls decided to go all out and make Arianne’s grandmother’s Dornish stew. Meera wiped a tear from her eye as she chopped an onion and laughed at Arya’s humming as she absent mindedly stirred the sauce. 

“You are so smitten,” Meera said. Arya didn’t even bother denying it. 

“He made me a playlist,” she sighed happily. Arianne rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. 

“You two are like a pair of lovestruck teenagers,” she teased. “When’s he taking you out again?” Arya shrugged. 

“We haven’t planned anything,” she said. “But we close together on Thursday, so maybe I’ll suggest we take advantage of my empty apartment over the weekend.” There was a bank holiday on the following Monday, and both Arianne and Meera were heading to their family homes for the long weekend.

-

Arya’s article about Grey Worm was published Monday morning, and she was thrilled to see that after three hours, only one of the many comments had mentioned Aegon. Her editor texted her to say that it was averaging more clicks than almost any of the paper’s other summer content, and Grey Worm messaged her to let her know that his aunt (who was apparently the only member of his family he was still on good terms with) had _loved_ it. 

“Nice article,” Gendry nodded when she saw him at work that afternoon. “Told you you should write it.” Arya made a face. 

“Would you like a trophy?” she asked. He laughed.

“No, but I do have something for you.” He reached into his bag and handed Arya her black tank top. She hadn’t realized that she’d left it at his place. 

“Oh,” she blushed, tucking the shirt into her own bag swiftly. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime,” he said. 

-

On Wednesday, Arya received an exclamation-point heavy text from Grey Worm to tell her that Stormborn, one of the world’s biggest record labels, had reached out to him. It happened to be Aegon’s record label, too, but Arya wouldn’t let that quell her excitement for Grey. Aegon had been signed because his aunt ran the label. Grey Worm had earned this all by himself. 

“With a boost from King’s Landing’s most reputable music critic,” Gendry said after reading the message over her shoulder. She elbowed him lightly. 

“I think it’s all about the cover art,” Arya joked. 

“Would you two _please_ stop with the flirting and get on with it,” Sandor said. Arya hadn’t noticed him enter the main store from the backroom. Gendry stepped away from Arya, blushing. 

“We have,” Arya said defiantly. Sandor raised his eyebrows. 

“Moved on from that blond twat, have you?” he said, moving to head upstairs. “Good.” He looked between them. “No fooling around in the store, though, alright?” Gendry looked as if he’d rather die than hear Sandor Clegane talk about his love life for another second. Arya grinned. 

“We promise!” she said. 

-

“It’d be fun, though,” Arya said casually, dusting the shelves as Gendry stuck ‘Sale!’ stickers onto a pile of discounted records. 

“Hm?” 

“Hooking up in the store,” she said. “Very 90s romcom, you know?” Gendry wasn’t looking at her, continuing to stick his stickers with undue force. “I always picture it in the backroom, like up against those old shelves. 

“ _Picture_ it?” Gendry croaked out, finally looking at her with wide eyes. “You’ve pictured this?”

“Of course,” Arya beamed, pleased that she had elicited exactly the reaction she had hoped for. “Haven’t you?”

“No,” Gendry said far too quickly. “I mean... no.” Arya narrowed her eyes. 

“Sort of sounds like you might have,” she said. But a glance at the sidewalk outside threw all thoughts of teasing Gendry aside. She skidded behind the counter and ducked into the spot that the little stool usually slid into. “I’m not here,” she hissed. 

“Arya, what -,” Gendry started, baffled by her sudden panic. 

“I’m not here!” Arya repeated. “Just -,” but the bell had rung and Gendry’s eyes snapped up to the entrance. His face fell into an immediate grimace. 

“Hey,” Aegon said cheerily, his voice as musical as ever. Gendry nodded. 

“Let me know if I can help you find anything,” he said robotically, before pretending to busy himself on the computer. 

“Actually, yeah, you can,” Aegon said. “I was wondering if Arya was working today.” Gendry’s shoulders tensed. 

“Went home sick,” he said flatly. 

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Aegon said, his voice wrought with a concern that made Arya want to vomit. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Gendry said. “Just sick.” 

“What sort of sick?” Aegon pushed on. “Is it her allergies? If she eats too much shellfish she gets a rash on her chest, I hope she -,”

“Confidential,” Gendry interrupted coolly. “Can’t share my colleague’s personal information with customers.” 

“Right,” Aegon said. The awkward tension in the air seemed to be suffocating Arya. She supposed that being tucked under a desk didn’t help the sensation. “I was just hoping to speak with her about a few things.” 

“Well, she’s not here,” Gendry said. There was a pause, and Arya got the sense that the two boys were sizing each other up. She rolled her eyes. 

“Do you, um, know who I am?” Aegon asked. He asked it as casually and politely as one could ask such a question. It still seemed to get Gendry’s hackles up.

“Yeah, you’re the guy Arya dumped, right?” Arya winced. Aegon let out a little laugh. 

“Yeah, I am,” he said. 

“Not sure she really wants you dropping in,” Gendry said. Yet another painfully awkward pause.

“You sound a little defensive, so I’m just going to let you know that it’s not worth your time.” 

“Sorry?” Gendry asked. 

“Getting involved with her,” Aegon explained. His tone was friendly, as if he was genuinely trying to give Gendry advice, but Arya (and, she suspected, Gendry) could see right through it. “I just get the sense that you’ve got a bit of a thing for her, and I mean, I get it. She’s like a firecracker in a beautiful little package, but the last thing she needs is someone complicating things.” Gendry said nothing, which Arya figured was probably for the best. “She and I aren’t finished figuring out what we are to each other.” 

“Alright, mate,” Gendry said, calmer than Arya expected. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” There was another excruciating moment of silence before Aegon spoke again, upbeat and casual, as if nothing had happened. 

“So, how many copies of my record have you guys ordered?” 

“Couple hundred,” Gendry admitted reluctantly. Sandor was by no means a fan of the trite pop music that Aegon made, but he was a businessman. To not have stock of the most anticipated debut album of the year would have been plain stupid. 

“Hmm,” Aegon said. “Might be best ordering a couple hundred more. It’s going to be pretty huge. You can stick one of these up in the window.” Arya exhaled as she heard Aegon step away from the counter. “Anyway, I have to get to this luncheon thing with the label. Send my best to Arya.” The door chimed, but Gendry stuck his foot out to keep Arya from emerging right away. 

“Still outside,” he said. After a moment, he took his foot away and Arya climbed out from her hiding spot. 

“Thank you,” she breathed. The last thing she wanted to do was confront Aegon while at work, least of all with Gendry present. 

“He took a photo of the shopfront,” Gendry frowned.

“Probably trying to visualize what it would look like with a poster of his face in the window,” Arya said, looking at the small stack of posters Aegon had left on the counter. His face was airbrushed to perfection. “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t be,” Gendry said. “I probably could have handled it smoother.” Arya laced her fingers through his. 

“Probably,” she shrugged. “But it was sort of hot hearing you talk to him like that.” Before Gendry could respond, Lommy rushed into the store half an hour before his shift was supposed to start. 

“Aegon Targaryen was here?” he demanded, looking around as though he half hoped Aegon was still somewhere in the building. He held up his phone, staring at them. “He posted our store to his Instagram story, like, two minutes ago.”

“Ah,” Arya said. “You just missed him, Lommy.” Lommy shook his head at them. 

“Next time _Aegon Targaryen_ comes into this store, you call me, okay?”

“Don’t think he’ll be rushing back,” Gendry said. Lommy sighed miserably and slumped against the counter. 

-

The three of them were busy for the entire afternoon, dealing with the hordes of young women who had flocked to Houndbite after seeing it on Aegon’s Instagram page. 

“Is Aegon here?” One girl asked. “Like, in the back?” She peered past Arya to the doorway, her eyes wide with hope. 

“He’s not,” Arya said apologetically. “But, here, you can have a free poster.” She moved to grab a poster and found Gendry absent-mindedly doodling a mustache onto Aegon’s upper lip. She snorted and grabbed an unsoiled poster, handing it to the girl. She was thrilled, gaping at the high quality photo of Aegon and his incredible dark blue eyes. “He’s so hot.” She looked up at Arya again, awaiting support for her statement. 

“Yeah, he is,” Arya said dully. “But there are things more important than that, trust me.” The girl didn’t seem to be listening, though, because she had noticed Arya’s name tag. 

“Oh my gods,” she said, “Are you -,” 

“Hey!” Arya interrupted. “Do you want free posters for your friends, too?” She reached over and grabbed a handful of the posters. Gendry had added a cartoon-villain goatee to his vandalized one. The girl stared at her. 

“You’re so pretty,” she gushed loudly. “Are you and Aegon -,” but the girl stopped talking when Arya held a finger to her lips. Too many of the other teenage patrons were looking over now. 

“More posters?” Arya asked, and she was relieved to see that the girl looked so awestruck in the presence of _the_ Arya that she nodded wordlessly. Arya handed her another three posters and smiled. “Thank you.” The girl nodded and turned away, her mouth agape. Arya could kick herself for wearing this stupid nametag with her stupid name on it. 

Lommy was busy chatting with some giggling girls about how he, too, had missed Aegon, and he, too, would love to date him. Arya was relieved to see that he seemed to have enough sense to not point Arya out. She pulled a piece of tape from the drawer and stuck it over her name, replacing it with a messily scrawled “Cat”.

“Cat,” Gendry said when he noticed it. He had filled in space between Aegon’s perfectly white teeth to create the illusion of fangs. “Why Cat?” he asked.

“My mum’s name,” Arya shrugged. “Anything would be better than Arya right now.” Gendry frowned. 

“I like Arya,” he said. When it came from Gendry’s lips, she decided she liked the name alright again.

-

After finishing their rather busy shift, Arya and Gendry left together. “Are you busy this weekend?” she asked. He shook his head. 

“I was going to ask you the same.” Gendry said. “I’ve convinced Lommy and Hot Pie to fuck off for a night. Thought we could order takeout on Friday and hang out on the roof.” Arya grinned. 

“Sounds amazing,” she said. “I’ll see you after your shift?” Gendry was closing on Friday, but Arya had the day off. 

“It’s a date,” he smiled. 

-

With Meera and Arianne out of town, Arya had the entire day to prepare for her date with Gendry. This mostly consisted of listening to the playlist he had made her and singing along as she shaved her legs and thought about kissing him. 

She didn’t feel the need to dress up if she and Gendry were going to be spending the evening on the roof of Houndbite Records. She pulled on a pair of ripped up jeans and a comfortable band tee. She wore a dark red lipstick, which she didn’t often do, but otherwise she looked as though she was headed out for a shift at the store. Sansa texted her as she grabbed her jean jacket. 

**Sansa:** Just parked, be there in 2. Brought a special treat x

Arya swore to herself. She had totally forgotten that this was the Friday that she had agreed to hang out with Sansa. She frantically started typing out a reply, but the buzzer had already rung. “Fuck,” she said again. She dialled Gendry’s number. 

“Hey,” he breathed, picking up on the second ring. “Just closing up. You headed over?” The excitement in his voice made her feel terrible.

“Gendry, I totally fucked up,” she said miserably. “Remember when my sister and I made plans?”

“Oh,” Gendry said. “Shit, is that tonight?” 

“It is,” she said. The buzzer rang again. “She’s going to throw a hissy fit if I tell her I’ve made other plans.” Gendry laughed. 

“Arya, don’t worry about it,” he said. “We can hang out another time.” 

“Tomorrow?” Arya asked. “The flat’ll be empty, we can hang out here after our shift.” 

“Defintely, yeah,” he said. He did sound excited at the suggestion, which made Arya feel much better. “That sounds great.” 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Arya insisted. “Promise. I feel awful, honestly, I was so looking forward to -,”

“Arya,” he laughed as the buzzer rang again. “Go let your sister in. You can tell me all of the ridiculous shit she says tomorrow at work, alright?” 

“Thank you for understanding,” Arya said. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “Can’t wait.” He hung up and Arya tossed her phone onto her bed, still feeling awful about standing him up. She knew, though, that Gendry was far less wound up than her sister, and that making it up to him the following evening would be far more enjoyable than cancelling on Sansa last minute.

She sped down the stairs and opened the door, but her greeting got stuck in her throat. Sansa wasn’t alone. Aegon at least had the decency to look nervous as he smiled at her. 

“What the fuck?” Arya asked, but Sansa barged into the house and led Aegon in after her. “Sansa, what’s he doing here?”

“Aegon is here to talk,” Sansa said, heading right into the kitchen. “I’ve had enough of the avoidance tactics, Arya. You two need to sort this out.” Arya felt completely blindsided.

“Sort it out?” Arya cried. “I broke up with him months ago!”

“But that was before the song,” Aegon said. “I poured everything I love about you into that song for everyone to hear, and you haven’t said two words to me.” He looked genuinely hurt, but Arya shook her head. 

“I didn’t ask,” she said. “I don’t _have_ two words to say to you, Aegon, except ‘get’ and ‘out’.” She pointed down the hallway at the door and Sansa sighed. 

“Arya, he just wants to talk.” 

“It’s not like I wronged you,” Aegon said. “I never cheated on you or treated you badly. You just suddenly decided to dump me one day. I only want to talk.” Arya put her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe she was missing out on a rooftop evening with Gendry for _this_. 

“Fine,” she said, sinking into a chair at the table. “Talk, then.” 

“I still love you,” Aegon said. Arya groaned. 

“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “You love _you_. I was just a pretty accessory.” Aegon stiffened at the accusation. 

“I know I could be a bit of a prat about my music,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I never loved you.” Arya rolled her eyes. 

“Aegon, what do you want?” she asked. “You could have barged into my life any time since we broke up. Why now?” Aegon looked both surprised and guilty at the questions. 

“Alright, look,” he said, his tone less soft than he had been. “The label thinks it’d be great for album sales if we got back together. Like, a happy ending to the ‘Arya, Please’ era. People would _love_ it. Just a few photographs and Instagram posts is all we’d need, honestly, and then we can reassess how we feel.” Arya blinked at him and Sansa looked scandalized. 

“Wait, this is all for some PR stunt?” Sansa said, shocked. Arya gave her a pitying look. 

“You want me to pretend to date you so that you sell more albums?” Arya clarified. Aegon frowned. 

“The ‘pretend’ part doesn’t have to be pretend,” he said. “I do miss you, Arya. PR and fame and everything aside, I still love you.” 

“Aegon, please,” Arya said. “Let it go. I’ve moved on, you should, too.” She stood up, indicating that she was done with the conversation. “I’m not going to be your fake girlfriend and I’m definitely not going to be your real one.” Aegon stood up, frowning. 

“Moved on?” he asked, an edge to his voice. “With who? Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to rebound with that dick you work with.” Arya didn’t bother responding, instead leading him to the front door. “You know, I showed my aunt that article you wrote,” he spat. “That’s why your buddy got a call from Stormborn.” Arya froze, shocked by this revelation. “Yeah,” Aegon laughed as he stepped outside. “Thought you should know that I’m not the worst guy in the world.” 

“Why’d you do that?” Arya asked. “You didn’t have to -,” 

“I wanted to,” he said, softening. “The article was good. Good enough to get me to check Grey Worm out. He’s pretty talented. Dany agrees.” 

“Oh,” Arya said. “Well, good. Grey deserves that.” Aegon smiled. 

“I didn’t do it for him,” he said. Before she could step back, he had swooped forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. “See you, Arya. Thanks for talking. Let me know if you change your -.” Arya slammed the door in his face and wiped her cheek in disgust. 

“Sansa,” she growled. “We need to talk.” 

-

Sansa was appalled that Aegon had wanted to _fake_ a relationship, but Arya needed her sister to know that the PR stunt was the least of her worries. It took a whole bottle of wine between them until Sansa finally seemed to accept that Arya had absolutely no interest in rekindling her romance with Aegon.

“He wrote you a song,” Sansa sighed. “How can a guy write you the biggest song in the country and not be the one?” Arya snorted. 

“Because love isn’t about bullshit gestures, Sansa.”

“This sucks,” Sansa said.

“Do you promise not to meddle anymore?” Arya asked seriously. 

“Promise,” Sansa nodded. “Although, honestly, this music store guy just seems so…” She made a face. 

“Poor?” Arya said. Sansa gasped and sputtered. 

“I never - _no_ , that’s not -,” she stammered out. “It’s just… he’s what, twenty-five? And he works at a record store, Arya.” 

“Twenty-three,” Arya corrected. “And so do I.” 

“But, like, as a career, I mean.” 

“That wouldn’t stop me from liking him, because I’m not a total snob,” Arya said sharply. “But that’s not his _career_.” Sansa brightened up. 

“What’s he going to do? Does he go to school?” 

“He’s an artist,” Arya said proudly. Sansa’s face fell. 

“Oh, Arya, that’s not exactly a realistic way of making money.” 

“Neither is writing,” Arya shrugged. “Or writing shitty pop songs, but sometimes it works out for people.” Sansa frowned. 

“The song’s not shitty,” she said. “But fine, I’ll shut up about ...what’s his name?” 

“Gendry,” Arya said. Gendry, who she had stood up for the stupidest of reasons. She finished her glass of wine and yawned. Sansa got the hint and called a cab. Arya headed up to bed to find a message from Gendry, received only a few moments ago. 

-

 **Gendry:** how was your evening with your sister?

 **Arya:** indescribable. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Thanks again for understanding x

 **Gendry:** k


	6. track 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they'll be fine, i promise.

Arya stayed up far too late perfecting the new mixed tape she had promised Gendry. She didn’t feel the need to be subtle about including love songs this time, freely adding loud poppy tunes about hooking up and slower, sultry ones that reminded Arya of laying on Gendry’s bed with him. She arranged the songs carefully, making sure that the throwbacks weren’t all bunched together and the local indie talent wasn’t surrounded by classics. 

She was quite happy with it, burning it and popping it into a little plastic case, but not before writing ‘Pop songs that don’t suck: Vol II’ on it and drawing a tiny little heart.

-

Arya slept poorly, dreaming that Aegon was in her kitchen again, cooking with herself and Meera and Arianne. She kept asking him to leave, but he never seemed to hear her, instead constantly adding various spices to the pot that she was stirring.

She had forgotten to plug her phone in and thus missed her alarm, giving herself barely enough time to fix her hair before work. She would have liked to look half-decent, considering Gendry was supposed to come over after work, but she reminded herself that he wouldn’t care what her bangs looked like. She tucked his CD in her bag along with a charger and rushed to catch the train.

-

Arya arrived just on time and was surprised to see a blond head of hair behind the desk. She hadn’t thought Lommy was scheduled to work today.

“Hi,” she said, hoping her eyes were brighter now than they had appeared in the mirror on her way out the door. “Didn’t know you were working today.” Lommy watched her, looking at her a little funny. 

“I wasn’t,” he said, “I’m covering for Gendry.” Arya frowned. 

“Is he sick?” she asked. She plugged her phone into the wall, hoping it would turn on again soon. Gendry had probably texted her to say that he had woken up not feeling well. Lommy looked at her.

“No,” he said eventually. “He’s sulking.” He turned to face her properly, crossing his arms and surveying her, a hint of amusement in his eye. “Arya Stark, you are a heartbreaker.” 

“What?” Arya breathed. “Was he upset?” She had honestly thought that Gendry had been alright with the change of plans. He had seemed disappointed, sure, but as soon as the topic of her empty apartment had come up, he sounded perfectly alright with rescheduling their date.

“ _Upset?_ ” Lommy laughed. “He looked like someone had snapped that Dark Sister Greatest Hits record he loves in half and spat on it and then used one of the shards to gut him and let him bleed-,”

“Alright,” Arya snapped, feeling rather warm now as her empty stomach churned. “You’re not serious, are you?” Lommy hadn’t sounded as though he was exaggerating, though. He blinked at her. 

“Arya, what did you expect him to do?” He scoffed. “He sets up this whole thing, you cancel last minute and say you’re with your sister, he shakes it off, says it’s fine, only for you to get back together with your ex. Your ex who, by the way, Gendry does _not_ like. I personally can’t blame you for giving Aegon another chance, but I wish you’d handled it differently, cause Gendry was _really_ into you, like, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him talk about anything with as much interest as he talked about you. And, Gods, the draw-,”

“Lommy,” Arya finally cut in, her heart beating at a million miles an hour. Lommy finally shut up, looking at her curiously, excited for her explanation. “How do you know I was with Aegon last night?” She winced at the wording. “Not _with_ Aegon, he was just there at my house, but we weren’t - we’re _not_ together. He was just… How does Gendry know?” 

“Barra,” he shrugged. 

“Barra?” Arya asked. 

“Yeah, she’s, like, always up to date with anything Aegon-related. She knew about the photos from Twitter before any tabloids picked them up,” Lommy said. “Hot Pie was convinced it was only a kiss on the cheek, but Aegon looked way too happy for it to have just been friendly, I think. Gendry didn’t say much, but I think he agreed with me.”

“Photos,” Arya breathed. Lommy finally seemed to understand that Arya was currently rather behind the news cycle when it came to her love life. 

“The photos of you and Aegon,” Lommy said, pulling up an article on his phone. “Someone posted them last night and Barra called Gendry to yell at him for not telling her that Argon was happening again.”

“Argon,” Arya repeated. “Like the element.” Lommy handed her the phone and her mouth fell open in horror at the images of Aegon on her front step, his unmistakable silver-blond head swooping towards her. It was true, it was hard to tell what sort of a kiss it was, but his smile as he hopped down the steps was repulsively cheerful.

“Yeah, it’s your names mashed together,” Lommy said. “Like, AR-ya and Ae-GON. I don’t think Barra knew that Gendry liked you, to be honest. She was pretty ruthless in her pro-Argon stance.” 

“Lommy, I need you to stop saying Argon,” Arya said, her voice both sharp and shaky. “Aegon and I are not a thing, we’re never going to be a thing. Does Gendry actually think - oh, Gods. He texted me last night.” He had asked her about her evening with her sister and she had - well, she hadn’t _lied_... but when she thought of it from Gendry’s perspective, her response felt rather deceptive now. Lommy nodded. 

“He wanted to know,” he said. “I told him he was just setting himself up for heartbreak, but he thought there might be a reason why Aegon Targaryen was at your flat, kissing you goodnight.” Arya leaned forwards onto the counter, her face in her hands. 

“Fuck,” she said, her voice muffled. “I’m going to kill him.” The _him_ in question, of course, was Aegon. She looked up at Lommy, fighting back the tears of frustration that threatened to fall, and told him everything. 

-

Lommy believed her account of Friday night. He seemed rather taken in by all of it, as if her life was some entertaining reality television show, and that this was just another fun twist. He gasped at Sansa’s betrayal and grinned when she explained how angry she was at Aegon and hummed sympathetically at how frustrated Arya sounded when she insisted that she had truly moved on and that Gendry was the only guy she actually wanted anything to do with. 

“And then he kissed me on the cheek,” Arya said miserably. Lommy swore under his breath. 

“The cheek! I owe Hot Pie a coffee,” he grumbled. “But Gendry will be pleased to hear that!” 

“Will he?” Arya asked. “He gave me a chance to tell him that I’d been with Aegon and I lied.” Lommy patted her on the shoulder. 

“You didn’t lie, you just withheld the truth after he got the twisted version from his little sister,” he said comfortingly. Arya groaned. “I’m going to go get you something from Sharna’s because you look like you might pass out,” Lommy continued. “But text him. If he likes you enough to tell Hot Pie and myself how he feels about you, he likes you enough to give you a chance to explain this.” Arya nodded and grabbed her phone, swiping away all of the messages she had received about the photos of her with Aegon. 

-

He hadn’t replied to her invitation to meet up after work, but Arya went up to the rooftop after her shift just in case. She froze when she saw that there was now a table with chairs - they were the shabby ones from the Houndbite storage room, used for sidewalk sales and the like. In the golden light of the sunset, they looked quite cute. There was an old beer bottle on the table with a flower in it - a blue coldsnap that looked rather lonely. She sat down, her heart breaking at the thought of Gendry setting all of this up last night, only for her to cancel on him. 

The sunset was just like his painting, more orange than pink. She wished he was there to watch it with her. Her phone buzzed and she scrambled to check it. 

**Gendry:** don’t think I’ll make it. Barra needs a ride to a sleepover.

 **Gendry:** to be clear, I actually am with my sister.

Arya resisted the urge to throw her phone off the ledge of the roof. Of course he was being petty. If she was him, she’d probably do the same. She kicked an empty beer can across the roof in frustration and finally let the tears she had been holding back all day flow freely. 

She was furious with herself for not just telling him everything last night. She was furious with Gendry for not giving her a chance to explain. Mostly, though, she was mad at Aegon, who wouldn’t take no for an answer, who thought that helping Grey Worm out would be reason enough for Arya to fall back into his arms. Aegon, who had wanted her back so that he could sell records and had gotten just what he wanted - the tabloids were convinced that Aegon and Arya were back on. “Arya, Please” had a happy ending for the millions of people who had streamed it non-stop all summer. Arya sat alone on the roof until the stars were out and the city got quiet. 

-

Hot Pie, at least, was willing to text her. He sent her a little note to say that Lommy had told him everything and that he was sorry it had happened like that. It was nice to hear, but it didn’t make her feel much better. She hadn’t bothered replying to Gendry. 

-

She had half hoped that he would have called out sick again, but when Arya arrived for her closing shift the following day, Gendry was already behind the counter, his head in his sketchbook. He didn’t bother to look up when the door chimed. She set her bag behind the counter and pulled out her notebook, looking at him. His shoulders had tensed up and he looked more angry than concentrated. 

“Hey,” she said. He paused and sighed, closing his book and sliding it away. 

“Hi,” he said, finally looking at her. His eyes were very blue and very annoyed. 

“Have you spoken to Lommy or Hot Pie?” she asked, thinking that perhaps he had already heard the truth. 

“About what?” he asked. 

“Friday,” she said. Gendry shrugged. 

“What’s there to discuss?” He asked. Arya felt a rush of anger that she had been keeping down since Lommy had explained everything.

“You really think I cheated on you with him?” She snapped. Gendry looked taken aback. 

“I thought you’d cheated on _him_ with _me_ ,” he said flatly. “It’s not like you and I were properly together or anything, so it doesn’t really matter.” The words stung. Arya knew that they had only been on one date (two if you counted making out on Gendry’s bed as a date) but she had certainly felt as though they were _together_. 

“Oh, okay, good to know,” she said. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You can just tell me the truth next time, though. Felt a bit weird finding out from my sister.” 

“Don’t think there’ll be a next time,” Arya snapped. In her gut she knew she was being stupid, that she would be better served just telling him the truth about Friday night and her feelings for him (and lack of feelings for Aegon). But she was annoyed with him for so easily believing that she would treat him like that, so she kept her tone cold. “So according to your sister, have Aegon and I been together the whole time, or have I only been lying to you for a couple weeks? Just want to make sure I have the story straight.” He looked taken aback by this. 

“How am I supposed to know?” He said. “Makes sense now that you didn’t want to talk to him in front of me the other day, though. Didn’t want him getting suspicious.” Arya’s mouth fell open and she laughed humourlessly. 

“Wow, Gendry, you really think a lot of me, don’t you?” She said. “Maybe after you get the latest gossip about me from your teenaged sister, you can make some time to go fuck yourself.” She really was mad at him, and it made her even angrier to realize how handsome he looked with his jaw set and his eyes ablaze. They had moved closer to each other as they exchanged barbs. The last time she had been so close to him, she had been kissing him. And now he was calling her a two-timing liar to her face. 

“You stood me up and then you lied about it, Arya,” he said, a ripple of anger audible in his otherwise calm tone. Her name sounded sharp on his tongue, like a dirty word. It did far more to her than Aegon’s crooning ever had or ever would. “I already feel like an idiot for thinking I stood a chance with you, alright?” Arya balked at this. She opened her mouth to reply, to insist that - current anger with him aside - he stood far more than a _chance_ with her, that Aegon was the one without any hope of regaining her interest. 

The door chimed and they jumped apart, both red in the face with anger. Grey Worm didn’t seem to notice as he skipped to the desk and clapped Gendry on the shoulder. 

“Hello, you two,” he said cheerily. “Guess who’s on his way to a meeting with Daenerys Targaryen?” Both Arya and Gendry couldn’t help but grin at his enthusiasm. Both faces fell when their friend continued, though. “Apparently her nephew told her about the album,” Grey nodded at Arya. “He’s not all bad, is he?” Gendry made a little scoffing noise. 

“Who knew he could tell what good music sounded like, right?” Arya joked. “Maybe you could teach him a thing or two.” Grey laughed. 

“Collab of the century, that would be,” he grinned. “Anyway, gotta run - record deals to sign and all that.” He winked. “Just wanted to stop by on my way and give you both my love. Gendry, start thinking up tour poster designs next time you have a chance.” He tossed them a peace sign as he left. “Wish me luck!” Arya did and Gendry mumbled a half hearted encouragement before silence took over the store once again. 

“I didn’t ask Aegon to do that,” she said honestly. Arya hated the idea that Grey’s success might be boiled down to Aegon’s attempts to please her. 

“Right,” Gendry said. “Just like how you didn’t ask him to be at your place on Friday night, and you didn’t ask him to kiss you.” Arya didn’t bother responding.

-

They worked without talking, though each of them came close to reigniting the argument once an hour or so, opening their mouths to respond to some earlier remark before catching themselves and returning to their work. 

Arya didn’t move to get the phone when it rang, forcing Gendry to speak to inquiring customers and suppliers. Gendry didn’t offer to help when Arya had to reach for discs on the higher shelves, forcing her to drag the stepladder out to grab what she needed. His sketching seemed more violent today, with less shading and more sharp strokes. Arya tried to finish the draft of a piece about the forgotten roots of punk rock, but she only wound up rambling about how Sheira and the Sirens’ perfectly captured the unparalleled anger a woman could feel towards thick-headed, stubborn, presumptuous men. 

She truly did not believe that her day could get any worse until Aegon Targaryen himself walked in as she was pulling the front blinds down. 

“Oh, fuck off,” she said, more disbelieving than angry at this point in her day. Aegon smiled. “We’re closed.”

“Nice to see you, too,” he grinned. “Says you’re open for another ten minutes.” She glared at him. 

“What do you want?” Arya snapped. Aegon had the decency to look guilty. 

“To apologize, first of all,” he said. “I swear I didn’t know that anyone would be taking photos.”

“No,” Arya nodded. “You just hoped they might.” Aegon frowned. 

“I mean, album pre-orders have tripled, so I’m not exactly crying over it,” he joked lightly, “but I truly am sorry about how this has played out. I want you back, but I respect that it’s your decision if that happens or not.” Arya shook her head. 

“If you really do respect that, you’ll leave me alone,” she said. He stuck his lip out sadly, the perfect pouting face that had been plastered on bus stops all summer long.

“You don’t mean that, though,” he said quietly. “You could travel the world with me, interviewing every musician you’ve ever dreamed of talking to. We’d be, like, a power couple.” Arya felt as if she was going to scream. 

“I’ve said no. Why are you here, Aegon?” she asked, her eyes dangerously close to tears. She _refused_ to cry in front of him. 

“I’m on my way to a preliminary launch party. It’s an industry thing, but it’s at this hip little club in Fleabottom, so I wanted to see you first. I thought maybe we could talk about,” he made some stupid hand gesture, “how crazy things have been between us, you know.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he broke. “Alright, fine. I can’t write without you. I barely wrote anything on the album. I can’t be Aegon Targaryen without you.” Arya blinked at him. “You’re my inspiration, my muse,” he carried on. “You make me _feel_ things. Every half-decent thing I’ve ever written was about you - kissing you, sleeping beside you, holding your body in my arms. Even losing you brought out my best work. On Friday night, I wrote a whole song about being around you again. You’re it. I need you.” Arya stared at him in disbelief for a moment before opening the door. 

“Aegon, I’m sorry that “Arya, Please” is your best work,” she said, motioning outside, “But don’t put that on me. If you’re not good enough to write without me, maybe you should stick to acoustic Marillion covers.” Aegon made a noise of indignation as he walked out, but she cut him off before he could get the last word in. “And if you even think about releasing whatever you wrote about me on Friday, I’ll tell Daenerys about how you and your manager thought about trying to start your own pathetic record label to compete with Stormborn.” She slammed the door in his surprised face and locked it, turning to see what Gendry had thought of the exchange. 

Gendry, though, was no longer at the desk. She laughed to herself and shoved her notebook and her sweater into her bag. He emerged casually, as if he hadn’t been hiding in the backroom while she had told Aegon off. 

“You okay?” he asked. She set her bag down and stared at him. 

“Oh, you care?” Arya spat. “Thanks for having my back. Nice to know that you’re only willing to tell him to piss off if you think you might get some action out of it.” He blinked at her, but she didn’t care how unfair she might sound. She was sick of both of them, sick of boys being so willfully difficult. 

“I didn’t want to get in the middle of anything,” he said. She rolled her eyes. 

“There’s no _thing_ for you to be in the middle of,” Arya said harshly.

“He doesn’t seem to agree,” Gendry said, and Arya snapped. 

“Oh, then there must be something between us,” she laughed, tears welling in her eyes now. “If Aegon and a bunch of teenagers and Sansa and Lommy and all of the stupid tabloids say we should be together, then clearly _my_ feelings are meaningless. It doesn’t matter that I had completely fallen for someone else, all that matters is that Aegon Targaryen wrote me a terrible love song.” Gendry stared at her. 

“Arya,” he started, but she was done. She threw her bag over her shoulder, stuffing her notebook in and shaking her head. She didn’t have the energy to deal with his inferiority complex or whatever he might say next.

“Don’t bother, Gendry,” she said. “You said it yourself, we weren’t even together, so this doesn’t really matter.” His lip parted as she echoed his words from earlier. Arya moved to leave, but realized she had forgotten something. Digging around in her bag, she pulled out the mixed tape and tossed it carelessly onto the counter. “I made you this,” she said, and she stalked out through the back door, leaving him to lock up on his own. 

-

It should have felt good, putting both Aegon and Gendry in their place. But Arya slept horribly, wishing she could forget the entire day. She wanted to be mad at Gendry properly, but the thought of him setting up a table with a flower on the rooftop kept coming into her mind. Lommy and Hot Pie had been tactful when describing his disappointment, but thinking about how she had let him down made her feel horrible. She might not have lied to him outright, but she could hardly blame him for feeling misled, for putting his defenses up. She knew he hadn’t meant what he had said about it not mattering - he liked her, she was sure of it. She couldn’t shake the way he’d stared at her before she’d stormed off, nor the way he said her name - so harshly in the morning, and then quietly as she had left. Thinking about kissing him hurt, but she found herself doing it anyway, remembering how nicely her waist had fit into his hands. 

He had been unfair and presumptuous and stupid, but she had been flippant and dishonest and equally stupid. 

Arya woke the next morning with the thought of calling him and telling him that even though he was a dick and he owed her several apologies, he was the one she wanted, that Aegon was the one who didn’t stand a chance. Instead, Meera burst into the room with her phone open to a picture of Aegon and herself, taken through the window of Houndbite. The article suggested that the pair was taking it slow, that things were still rocky, but that there was a lot of passion evident between them. 

“Do I want to know how work was yesterday?” Meera asked. Arya grabbed a pillow and held it over her own face, wondering briefly how much pressure she needed to apply to smother herself to death. 

-

Arianne made Arya pancakes and Meera braided her hair as Arya filled them in on everything they had missed. Arianne cursed Sansa out in Dornish, which Arya couldn’t help but laugh at. Meera called Gendry a prick, which made Arya laugh less, but she couldn’t disagree. He had been a dick. She had let him, though, choosing to tell him to go fuck himself instead of actually explaining why she had lied to him. She pushed her plate away and slumped onto the counter. 

“I hate him,” she said. 

“Aegon?” Arianne asked. “Or Gendry?” 

“Or both?” Meera offered. Arya sighed. She didn’t hate Gendry. She just needed him to stop being stupid enough to believe that she would get back together with Aegon Targaryen. Also, an apology would be nice. But what she felt for him was the furthest thing from hatred. 

“Aegon,” Arya said. “I hope his album flops and his own aunt drops him from the label.”

“And what of dear Gendry?” Meera asked. Arya hesitated. 

“I hope he stops being stupid,” she grumbled. “And I hope he’ll actually listen when I explain what happened. If I even bother.” 

Arianne shook her head. “Stubborn as a bull.” 

“He’s no better,” Arya mumbled. 

-

Arya had never worked alone with Sandor Clegane. He was getting the store ready for Free Record Day, which was approaching far sooner than Arya realized. He was crunching the numbers, making a stack of collector’s discs that would not be eligible to be given away at no cost. Arya was restocking the New Released section when he spoke. 

“You really hurt that boy,” Sandor said. 

“Which one?” Arya bit back. The boss chuckled. 

“The mopey one.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down,” she said. He laughed again before sobering up. 

“I’m serious,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t know Waters was capable of showing emotion, but he looked downright heartbroken when I asked him how your little date had gone.” Arya paused. 

“You knew about that?” she asked. 

“Sure I did,” Sandor shrugged. “He had to ask my permission to haul that record player up there so that you two could enjoy the sunset with whatever shite music you two like.” 

“He brought a record player up?” Arya breathed. Sandor nodded. 

“Had to bring it back down again, though.” Arya swallowed. “He likes you.” 

“Liked,” Arya corrected. “He doesn’t think so highly of me anymore.” Sandor hummed. 

“You’re sure about that?” he said. Arya shrugged. 

“The whole world seems to know who I like and what I want based on a few photos on the internet, Gendry included,” she said. “There’s hardly any point in trying to convince them otherwise.” Sandor folded his arms and looked at her. 

“You’re not even going to try?” he said. She shook her head and kept working, but he didn’t move, still watching her with his arms crossed. “You know, I bought a rap album for the first time since 1998 last week.” 

“Yeah?” Arya asked, not sure what the sudden change in topic was about. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Local bloke named Grey Worm. Read a review of his record and I was sold. Turned out to be a pretty good decision, the kid’s got solid lyrics.” Arya looked at him apprehensively. 

“Where is this going?” She asked. Sandor rolled his eyes. 

“You’re a writer,” he snapped. “A good one. No good writer lets their story be written for them.” Arya blinked at him. “Hurry up, we need that done today if we want a wight’s chance in hell of having the store in order for Tuesday.” 

-

She sat down at her desk and pulled her notebook out to figure out what she was going to say, but she found that she didn’t need to open it up and draft up any notes. The words came freely, as if they had been looking for an excuse to get out of her brain. Arya couldn’t believe it had taken Sandor Clegane, who barely did more than grunt at her on a good day, to get her in front of her laptop, writing out every word she had felt about Aegon. 

It was long and far more personal than anything she had ever published. She was honest, perhaps dangerously so when she admitted that she hadn’t realized how very over Aegon she was until she had fallen for someone new, someone who was just as stubborn as herself, who she hoped she hadn’t ruined things with. 

The essay wasn’t about Gendry, though. It wasn’t even all about Aegon. It was about her, about how she was just a girl, not a muse or an artistic vessel or a lyric in a song. It was about how frustrating it was to hear her name on the radio every day, knowing that everyone who listened to it had some idea of who she was in their mind, but none of them actually knew her. It was about how thousands of teenage girls thought that they wanted to be her, some girl who a cute boy was in love with, when they could and would be so much more than that. It was about saying “no” a hundred times and meaning it, and no one believing that you did. 

She sent it to her editor just before midnight without proofreading it. She insisted that she wasn’t sure if it was something that the school paper would care to publish, but that if it was any good, they could. Her editor replied a half hour later, telling her that they would run it the next morning. Arya closed her laptop and let the buzz of writing course through her. It had felt good to say all of that. It was long overdue, she decided. 

It was then that she noticed her notebook properly. Instead of the thin black cover she was used to, it was bound in black leather. The pages were more distressed than they should be, with a couple of papers sticking out the edge. She dug through her bag at her feet and pulled out the notebook that actually belonged to her - neat (aside from the handwriting inside) and a little smaller than the book that sat on her desk, the book that definitely did not belong to her.

Arya opened the cover to check that it was indeed Gendry’s. His name _was_ scrawled on the inside of the front cover, but Arya was immediately distracted by the sketches that took up the rest of the space. Barra in her grass-stained hockey uniform, grinning with her mouthguard in. A close up of a hand she didn’t know. The empty layout of Houndbite Records. Lommy’s iced coffee order - Gendry had shaded this one carefully, managing to make it look as syrupy and heavy as it appeared in real life. 

She turned the page automatically, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy, but forgetting the thought as she grinned at a cartoon of Hot Pie holding a hot pie. There were more of his mum, smiling and somber, never looking older than thirty-something. Grey Worm’s album title, written out in impressive fonts with shadows underneath them. Barra holding up a dumpling with a pair of chopsticks. One page was devoted to trees that grew in the park across the way - the oak tree was especially beautiful. He drew everything - landscapes and animals, people and words. There was one small, ugly sketch that could only be of the politician (and a Stark family friend) Robert Baratheon, which made her laugh - her dad would love it, she was quite certain.

She flipped through the first few pages eagerly, careful not to smudge any of his work. It was on the seventh page that she froze, met with her own face on the paper in front of her. She was wearing her Dusky Women shirt - the shirt she had worn on her very first day at Houndbite. Gendry had been generous with how delicately her lips parted as she stared into space. The Arya on the page was leaning on the desk, looking to the side with a braid over her shoulder. Her real eyes weren’t as pretty as he had drawn them, but she supposed he wasn’t going for realism - he was an artist, it was stylistic. His style, however, seemed to make her far prettier than she was. 

Arya turned the page again and saw her worn out sneakers. There was a hand, too, with nails as short as her own and a hair elastic around the wrist - just like she tended to wear. She felt her breath catch when she noticed that he had written down a song in the margin - it was one of the songs from the playlist he had made her. 

He drew her sitting on the counter in her shortest shirt, her legs far nicer than they were in real life. She looked at the sketch of Lommy beside her. He just looked like Lommy, no exaggerations. She swallowed. Was this truly how Gendry saw her? Some beautiful, glowing creature whose hair always looked a little messy in the most perfect way and whose eyes sparkled even when she wasn’t smiling. 

But no, he had included the pimple on her forehead in the next one, and he had drawn her dark under eyes during one of their early shifts. He just somehow managed to make her look beautiful all the same. 

He drew the back of her head in only a tank top, her hair stringy from sweat in the midst of the White Fawn crowd. He drew her blowing smoke from her lips as she sat in an old deck chair on the roof of Houndbite. He drew all sorts of other things, too, but Arya couldn’t pretend to be interested in his still life of his lunch with there was a sketch of her in the shirt he had designed. She tore through the rest of his sketchbook, sucking in a breath at a pair of eyes that could only be hers, at a sketch of lips that looked as though they had spent an hour on Gendry’s, at a closeup of a collarbone that made Arya’s hand drift to her own. In these margins, Missy Blackwood’s album was noted. He wrote down songs on almost every page that featured her. Her heart fell into her stomach when she turned to some lineart of a little table on the rooftop with a flower stuck into a beer bottle. The sun was setting and in the margin, he had listed some albums that he seemed to be considering for the evening. The next sketches his last - her furious face, jaw set and brows furrowed. Her cheekbones and chin looked sharper in these, as if he hadn’t been as careful with his pencil this time. She slammed the book shut, tucking it back into her bag before immediately drawing it out again and looking at every page for a second time. 

Arya had told Gendry a million times how she hated being Aegon’s muse, but the thought of Gendry’s pencil tracing her jawline onto the page made her feel warm, as though it was his fingers brushing against her actual skin. She didn’t mind it so much, Gendry creating something in her image. It felt careful and quiet, done not in the hopes of winning her over or proving his love, but rather just because he liked her. He liked her. 

She looked at the curve of her own lip, as outlined by Gendry’s pencil, smudged delicately at the bottom by his charcoal-covered thumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's hard to describe art, but portraiture-wise, gendry's sort of in this vein (but his profs are encouraging him to expand his range and mix in some colour) https://www.instagram.com/p/BiUuDNxBhpE/


	7. track 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh this story was fun and i will miss it :) thank you for all of your lovely words and energy. rock on, folks!

Arya re-read it as soon as it was published, hating herself for being nervous about tiny mistakes, an extra comma here and there where she might not have needed one. She was happy with it, though, really. And maybe a tiny bit nervous about everyone she knew reading it. 

-

Arianne had printed the whole thing off and stuck it on the fridge, drawing little red hearts around the byline and highlighting her favourite bits. Meera scrolled through it as Arya ate breakfast, grinning the entire time. 

“This is beautiful,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “He’s such a prick.”

“It’s not about that!” Arianne cried. “It’s about how Arya’s her own person and no song or boy or photographs get to define that person.” 

“Yeah, but it’s also about the fact that he’s a total prick,” Meera said. Arya couldn’t disagree with either of them. 

-

She had sort of forgotten that her parents had access to the internet, so the phone call from her father after breakfast gave her pause. Arya wasn’t sure that she needed her father to know the ins and outs of how annoyed she was with her ex-boyfriend. 

“Hey, Dad,” she said apprehensively. 

“Arya,” he said, and she could hear that he was smiling. “Your mother and I read your blog.” 

“It’s not really a blog, Dad,” she laughed. “It’s for the school paper.” 

“We saw it online,” he explained. “Either way, we just wanted to let you know that we’re very proud of you for telling that little rat to fuck off and -,” Arya heard her mother tell her father off on the other line and snatch the phone. 

“It was a lovely article, Arya,” Catelyn said. “Quite honest, but nicely written. Your teachers in primary school always said you had a talent for getting your feelings across. I think this writing business really could turn into a career for you.” Arya couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Thanks, I hope so,” she said.

“Now, who is this new boy? Is it someone we know?” Catelyn pressed, clearly more interested in Arya’s love life than anything else. “That Ned Dayne was always so charming.” Arya held back a laugh. 

“Ned’s in love with Arianne, Mum,” she said. “I promise I’m not writing declarations of love about him.” Catelyn hummed in disappointment. 

“Well, whoever this boy is, I hope he likes Moraqi food,” she said. “There’s a lovely spot that just opened by the river and we’ve been looking for an excuse to try their lunch menu. Whenever you and your new man are available, we’d love to meet him.” Arya was sure that Gendry would hate few things more than sitting down for lunch with her parents at a lovely spot that just opened by the river. But that was the least of her worries.

“He’s not my man,” Arya insisted. “I mean, he could be - I’m just not sure. I might have ruined things.” She considered this. “Well, he didn’t help… I don’t know. It might be over.” She didn’t usually talk to her mother about boy problems - this was Sansa’s domain. Catelyn sighed pityingly. 

“If it was over, you wouldn’t have written down all of those feelings about him,” her mother said sagely. “Now, tell me, what’s his name? Do we know the family?” Arya sighed. She knew that Sansa would tell her mother everything regardless of how much information Arya withheld right now. 

“Gendry,” she said. “You don’t know him.” 

“Gendry,” Catelyn repeated. “Ned, don’t the Drinkwaters have a son named Gendry? They’re a lovely couple, they were at that burn victim’s fundraiser in the spring. Ned, you remember.” 

“He’s not a Drinkwater,” Arya said patiently, but her parents were now having a conversation on the other side of the phone. 

“No, the Drinkwater boy is Gerris,” Ned was saying. “Gendry… it does ring a bell.” 

“What’s Mace’s son called?” Catelyn pondered. “The one who was studying to be a lawyer.” Arya grimaced.

“That’s Garlan,” Ned said. “He’s a good young man, helped Robert out with some inheritance details a few months back. Garlan’s well into his thirties, though, I hardly think -,” 

“I can promise that you two don’t know him,” Arya said sharply. “And I can promise he’s not in his thirties.”

“Well, I should hope not, you’re only twenty,” Catelyn said, as Ned suggested something else. “No, Ned, Robert’s estranged son is named _Edric_.” Arya rolled her eyes and bid her parents farewell. 

-

Arya ran in the park for longer than she usually did, enjoying the time alone with herself and her thoughts and the playlist Gendry had made her. All of the things she was feeling created a unique sort of adrenaline. She was nervous and excited and relieved and apprehensive and, though much of it had been taken out through her keyboard, still a bit angry. Her legs didn’t seem to tire as she raced through the trails, not slowing down as she ran up the steep inclines. She only realized how hard she had pushed herself when she arrived, breathless, at her front step. 

Waiting for her was Sansa, holding a bouquet of flowers that were admittedly quite pretty, as well as a bag from the deli down the road that Arya loved. Arya was exhausted and her stomach ached at the mere thought of a sandwich. 

“I brought you lunch,” Sansa said. “And an apology.” She held up the flowers. “I know you said love isn’t about stupid gestures, but I thought these were pretty.” Arya smiled and let her sister inside. 

-

The sandwich was heavenly - Arya wasn’t sure what sort of mustard the owners of the deli used, but it was undeniably the best mustard in the city. Even Sansa, who generally avoided carbs, indulged. 

“I know it’s different,” Sansa said, wiping her hands delicately with a paper napkin. “I mean, of course it’s different - you were never stupid enough to date someone like Joffrey -,”

“Sansa,” Arya said seriously. That _was_ different. Incomparably so. Aegon was a lacklustre boyfriend and made for a far more irksome ex-boyfriend, but he was selfish and arrogant, not _cruel_. 

“No, I know,” Sansa said before Arya could continue. “It’s different, it is. But I really get what you meant about feeling like everything was being decided for you without you being consulted on the matter. Like, even after Joffrey and I broke up, half of my friends took his side because he told them all I was crazy. I never thought of Aegon singing about you like that, I thought that someone being so openly in love with you _had_ to be a good thing. Like something out of a movie, you know?” Arya nodded. “But it’s still all about him and his feelings and his perspective of the relationship.” 

“Yeah,” Arya agreed, “men are sort of awful sometimes.” 

“They are _sometimes_ awful, yes,” Sansa said. “But not all the time. You know, I ran into Theon Greyjoy the other day - he’s cut his hair!” Arya smiled and listened politely as her sister explained that Robb’s best friend was quite handsome these days, and far more charming than he had been in college. 

-

**Grey Worm:** Stark, you’re a star for that hit piece. Absolutely legendary.

**Grey Worm:** Having said that, I’ve officially signed on with Stormborn Records, so at least one good thing came of his pathetic attempts to win you back

**Arya Stark:** Congrats!! Dany is definitely the better Targaryen. I’m glad my disaster of a love life has done some good for the world x

-

Arya lay on her bed for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring most of her phone’s other notifications, opting instead to flip through Gendry’s sketchbook a few times more. He was far too generous, really - the way she bit her lip was far goofier than he made it seem. His rendition was borderline sensual, the creases in her lip etched with so much care that she felt her cheeks grow pink. 

It was unfortunate that tomorrow was Free Record Day. The store would be packed, and all she really wanted was five minutes alone with Gendry, a chance to explain herself, and maybe an apology or two. 

She also had to explain that she had accidentally stolen his sketchbook, something that she was certain would cause him a great deal of anxiety. Arya sort of liked the image of Gendry trying to explain the full page he had devoted to her sipping her iced tea through a straw.

-

The store was already busy when Arya arrived, the bell chiming as she walked in. She felt her heart jump into her throat as Gendry caught her eye before the door had even shut behind her. Considering the way he almost never bothered looking at customers, she got the sense that he had been watching the door, waiting for her to arrive. 

His eyes didn’t seem to leave her as she made her way to the sales counter, picking her way through the little crowd of people attempting to select which record they would take home for free. Arya stepped behind the counter and hung her bag on the hook before looking up to find Gendry still staring at her. 

“Hi,” he said quietly. The customer he was helping made a noise of indignation. 

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “I asked for my receipt.” Gendry ripped the stub from the machine and held it out for her to take - she snatched it from his fingers with a look of resentment, but Gendry was still looking at Arya. 

“What you wrote,” he started, “Arya -,”

“I should have explained,” she cut in. “I should have just been honest.” 

“And I should have given you a chance,” he said. “I was a total -,” 

“Hello?” A new customer said, looking rather annoyed by the cashier ignoring him completely. 

“Prick,” Gendry finished, giving Arya a searching look for half a second before turning back to the register. 

“Pardon me?” The customer sputtered, looking affronted. Arya bit back a laugh and clipped her nametag on. She stepped out from behind the desk to go help customers on the floor, leaving Gendry attempting to convince the customer that he had been calling _himself_ a prick. 

-

“Arya!” A voice called, and Arya turned to see Missandei, impeccably dressed as always, holding a small stack of records. 

“Missandei!” Arya cried back, stepping around a customer to greet her friend. “You’re in town early! I thought you wouldn’t be back until the fall.” Missandei shrugged and smiled. 

“Got in last night. I was offered an internship for next semester, but it starts super early - I had to be in King’s Landing by next Monday,” she explained. “Weird timing, but I couldn’t pass it up. I’m going to help style shoots for Stormborn. Like, the record label.” Arya couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. 

“No way!” she said. “That’s going to be amazing.” 

“Yeah, like, I get to help out with all their press shoots and events and everything,” Missandei beamed. “I’m so excited.” Arya glanced at the records Missandei was holding and felt a jolt of glee when she recognized Gendry’s work on Grey Worm’s album. 

“You’re a Grey Worm fan?” Arya asked. Missandei immediately looked sheepish and leaned towards Arya. 

“Okay, confession,” she said quietly. “I’ve never heard him. But he follows me on Instagram and he’s, like, _hot_.” Arya nodded, attempting to keep her face neutral. “Plus, I saw your piece about him and I figured I might as well actually check out his music.” 

“He’s really cool in person,” Arya said with a smile. “And the album’s amazing. You know he’s signed with Stormborn, right?” Missandei’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Since when,” she breathed. 

“Yesterday, officially,” Arya said proudly. “Maybe you’ll run into him at a shoot sometime.” She left Missandei to imagine all of the different ways she could dress Grey Worm up, moving to help a customer who appeared to be stuck deciding between the latest Sand Snakes album and their debut. 

-

It was an all-hands-on-deck sort of day, with even Sandor in the store to deal directly with customers. Lommy embraced it, helping every patron choose which disc to pick up free of charge and which ones might make good complementary purchases. Hot Pie managed to keep a smile on his face all day - years of waiting tables, apparently, had taught him how to maintain a cheerful demeanor in the face of chaos. Arya expected Gendry’s face to be plastered with his usual customer-facing scowl, but he seemed too distracted to be outwardly annoyed with the crowd today. He kept looking up at her and catching her eye, only for one of them to be drawn away by a customer. 

They barely got a chance to speak all day, with everyone having to stagger their lunch breaks to keep up with the parade of customers. Most people who came to get a free record made additional purchases, keeping Sandor in an incredibly good mood all day long - they were giving away hundreds of albums, but Houndbite was still taking in more than a regular day’s profit. 

There was a moment in the early afternoon when Arya had taken over the cash register and Gendry emerged from the back room with a large box. His sleeves strained as he set the load down and Arya found herself rather distracted by his arms. “Little old lady at the front wanted to buy a record player,” he explained, patting the box. “She’s just choosing a couple of discs but she’ll be up to pay for it in a moment.” Arya nodded, meeting his eyes. He swallowed. “I should have trusted that you weren’t with him,” he said quickly, glancing around to make sure there were no impatient customers at the desk. 

“And I should have just told you everything,” Arya said. “I was already so mad that Aegon had got what he wanted and when you seemed to think I was _with_ him, I just…” She didn’t know the word to use, but Gendry nodded. 

“Hello, dears,” the old lady said, arriving at the counter. “I think I’ve decided on these - I’ll take the King’s Men one for free, it was an old favourite of mine.” Arya smiled and rang her other selections up. 

“It’s a great record,” Arya agreed as the lady pulled out her card to pay. “Settle something for us, though - is “My Featherbed” a pop song or a rock song?” The lady swiped her card and blinked at them, chuckling. 

“It’s neither, surely,” she laughed. “It’s a folk song! No one knows who wrote it, it’s just some old forest people’s tune.” Arya cocked her head to the side. 

“It’s a cover?” she clarified, looking to Gendry for confirmation. Gendry frowned. 

“I never knew that,” he said. 

“Me neither,” Arya agreed. The lady tapped her nose. 

“Those King’s Men were a bunch of scoundrels, they were. Never let on that they’d stolen it from some old tavern in the Riverlands.” She took her records from the counter. “Talented scoundrels, though, I have to admit. Now, I’ll need this strapping young lad to help me to my car, if that’s alright.” Arya grinned at the pink that bloomed on Gendry’s cheeks at the word ‘strapping’, admiring his frame as he lifted the box and maneuvered it through the crowded shop to the front door. If she were an artist, she wouldn’t have minded spending hours upon hours with a bit of charcoal, perfecting the shape of his shoulders and the way his hands tightly gripped the bottom corners of the box. 

-

Arya’s shift had started the latest, so she would be the last to leave, aside from Sandor. Hot Pie ducked out first, in the late afternoon as the sales slowed down. Lommy left an hour later, but when Gendry’s shift was over, he hovered awkwardly by the desk. Arya was helping a teenage boy choose which record to give to his boyfriend. The boyfriend’s birthday wasn’t for another two months, but the boy at the counter didn’t have much of a disposable income. He had to choose an album today, when he could get one for free. Arya flipped one of the discs over again, trying to decide which one she would have wanted to receive if she had been dating anyone at age fifteen.

“D’you have a computer at home?” Gendry interrupted. “One with a disc drive?” The boy nodded. 

“My mum’s got one, yeah.” 

“Burn him a mixed tape,” Gendry advised. The boy raised his eyebrows and considered this.

“He does have a CD player…,” he said carefully. “Like, a vintage one from his older sister.” 

“I bet he’d love it,” Arya said. “That way you don’t have to pick just one artist or album, it can be any song that you’d like to share with him.” The boy nodded. 

“It’s sort of old school,” he agreed. “Like in a movie.” 

“It’ll make his day,” Gendry said wisely. It was funny, watching him engage so willingly with a customer. “He’ll probably listen to it non-stop and think of you the whole time. Very romantic move.” He glanced up and met Arya’s gaze. 

“I think so, too,” Arya said, tearing her eyes from Gendry’s to look back at the young man who was deep in thought. She tapped one of the records on the counter. “Take this one for free,” she said, “ _and_ make him a mixed tape.” The boy nodded, agreeing that this was the way to go.

“Thanks!” He said, collecting his free record and leaving. Arya looked back at Gendry. 

“Your shift’s over,” she observed. It had been for fifteen whole minutes now. Gendry shrugged. For the first time all day, it was just them in the store. Well, just them and Sandor, who stomped out of the back room with a box to restock the sale bin. He paused when he saw Gendry.

“Your shift’s over,” he grunted as he set the box down, looking between them before narrowing his eyes at Gendry. “You two sorted your shit out yet?” He looked to Arya for the answer. She considered the question. 

“Almost,” she said. Sandor rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, I’m going upstairs then. If there’s some unexpected rush in the next hour, give me a shout,” he started up the stairs before pausing and looking back at them. “Remember what I said about fooling around in the shop.” Gendry looked up at the ceiling in agony at the words and Arya nodded, biting back a smile. 

“So,” she said when Sandor did make his way up the stairs. “I think we were in the middle of apologizing to each other.” Gendry shook his head. 

“Arya, I read your article. You don’t have to apologize, honestly. I was being a selfish prick and the last thing you needed was another one of those in your life,” he said earnestly. “That night, I believed the worst because I got caught up in the idea that it was some competition I couldn’t win, instead of realizing that -,” 

“You’d already won?” Arya finished for him. He frowned. 

“No,” he said. “I meant that it wasn’t a competition at all.” Arya grinned and couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh, we’re very cocky now, aren’t we?” She teased. Gendry shook his head. 

“No, no,” he said. “That’s not - I mean… you’re not some, like, trophy that either Aegon or I was going to somehow, you know… earn, or whatever.” Arya felt her face grow warm at the way Gendry was looking at her, stumbling over his words but still sounding sure of himself. “You’re just a girl.” She nodded and he winced at his own words. “I mean, not _just_ a girl, obviously. You’re incredible and you’ve got great taste in music and you’re so unfairly pretty.” He caught himself and stopped, blushing under her gaze. “I’m sorry for thinking you were with him,” Gendry concluded.

“And I’m sorry for letting you think that,” Arya said. “I took my anger towards Aegon out on you.” Gendry raised an eyebrow.

“I think you were a little mad at me, too,” he said. Arya shrugged. “You did tell me to go fuck myself.” Arya made a face. 

“Yeah, well, you’d earned that I think,” she said.

“I did,” Gendry agreed. “In my defense, though, I’ve never really liked anyone the way I like you and the thought of losing you to that prick sort of put me in a bad mood.” Arya nodded. 

“I could tell,” she said. “You’re a bit of a pessimist, huh?”

“A bit, yeah. Learning to look for the silver linings, though,” he said. “I promise I’ll believe you over any tabloids or rumours next time.” 

“I’m hoping there won’t be a next time,” Arya said. “I’m crossing my fingers that we’ll be leading an Aegon-free existence from now on.” Gendry let out a short laugh.

“Have you heard from him?” he asked. Arya shook her head. 

“Nope,” she said. “Which probably means the piece was good, right?” Gendry nodded. 

“Trust me, it was good.” 

“Good,” Arya smiled. He met her eyes and gave her a hesitant smile back before rubbing his neck a little nervously.

“So, uh, are _we_ good?” He asked. Arya nodded. She was sick of talking about Aegon at this point. “I loved your mix,” he said. “That one song about, uh, trousers… I had to skip that when Barra was in the car with me.” His cheeks were pink but he was smiling. “It’s good, though.” Arya had almost forgotten how very unsubtle she had been with her song selections on her latest mixed tape for Gendry. She felt herself blush, too, and bit her lip. 

“Listen,” she said. “About what Sandor made us promise…” Gendry shook his head. 

“I never promised him anything,” he said seriously, and before Arya could do more than smile, he had stepped back behind the counter and swept her into a kiss. She brought her hands to his shoulders as one of Gendry’s gripped her waist and tugged her closer to him. He placed his free hand at the back of her head, angling her face up as his lips moved against hers. 

It was more aggressive than any previous kiss they had shared, as if he wanted her to know that there was not a doubt in his mind where either of their affections lay. She smiled against him, letting him back her up until she hit the counter, which he hoisted her onto, their faces now about level. He stepped between her legs and cupped her face, his fingers tracing her jaw. For a moment, Arya remembered that she had to return his sketchbook, but then his lips were on hers again and she forgot about everything that wasn’t Gendry. 

The inevitable rude awakening came with a chime of the door. Gendry jumped back and Arya hopped down from the counter, fixing the hem of her shirt. “Barra?” Gendry asked. His sister slumped into the store. 

“Hi,” she said. “Dad forgot to send someone to pick me up after piano lessons, so I figured I’d come here since it’s only ten blocks.” She glanced at Arya and smiled shyly before looking back at Gendry. 

“You walked ten city blocks?” Gendry cried. “In Fleabottom? _Alone?_ ” Barra rolled her eyes. 

“It’s fine, Gendry,” she insisted. “I just need a ride home later. Mum’s out on a date tonight and I don’t want to bother her.” Gendry shook his head. 

“I’m going to kill Robert,” he said under his breath. “We close in twenty minutes, Barra. I can drive you home in half an hour. That okay?” 

“Sure,” Barra said. She finally looked up at Arya. “Okay, tell me about this new guy.” 

“Barra,” Gendry warned. “Not your business.” 

“I read the thing!” Barra insisted to Arya. “It was really informative, and I totally understand why you and Aegon can’t be together anymore. But you talk about this other guy like he’s a gift from the Gods.” Arya grinned. 

“He totally is,” she said. Gendry rolled his eyes and Barra shot him a look of annoyance.

“If he’s even cuter than Aegon, he must be so dreamy,” she sighed, turning back to Arya. “Is he also a musician?” Arya shook her head. 

“He’s an artist,” she said. “He’s amazing, too.” Gendry’s shoulders stiffened. 

“Oh, like Gendry!” Barra grinned. 

“Exactly like Gendry,” Arya nodded. 

“Hopefully not quite as grumpy,” the younger girl teased. Arya considered Gendry. 

“He’s about as grumpy as your brother, actually.” Barra looked taken aback by this. 

“Seriously?” she frowned. 

“Mhmm,” Arya said, moving to link her arm through Gendry’s. “Same height, too. And he’s got these incredibly blue eyes.” Barra looked between them, her lips parting in shock. Gendry’s cheeks were bright pink. 

“Gendry!” Barra cried. “Oh my _Gods!_ You’re dating Arya? Like, _Arya_ Arya? And you didn’t tell me?” Gendry gave Arya a look of exasperation before nodding. 

-

Barra spent the whole drive home asking Gendry and Arya questions about their relationship. 

“Have you kissed?” she demanded. Gendry groaned and Arya grinned, nodding. Barra smiled. “Have you got to second base?” Gendry sputtered and glanced back at his sister in the rear view mirror. 

“How do you know what that is?” He asked. Barra shrugged. 

“Rosie says it’s just making out but, like, your hands do more,” she said simply. Arya bit her lip to stop from giggling and Gendry looked like he wanted to disappear. 

“Barra, no more questions,” Gendry said. 

“Fine,” she sighed. “Can I tell Dad you’re dating someone?” 

“No,” Gendry said simply. “No more questions.” 

“What if he asks how you are?” Gendry rolled his eyes. 

“Tell him I’m fine and that he should worry more about his teenage daughter being stranded in Fleabottom because he’s incapable of arranging a car.” 

“Oh, relax,” she said. “Gods, Arya, I hope you know what you’re getting into.” 

-

Barra waved goodbye and Gendry turned to Arya. “Do you, uh, have to get home right away?” he asked. She shook her head. 

-

They picked up pizza on the way. The box warmed Arya’s thighs as she watched Gendry nod his head along to the latest mixed tape she had made him. She thought about him describing her as “unfairly pretty”, and found that the words captured her feelings towards him perfectly. 

-

“We’ve just about missed the sunset,” Gendry said as he pulled up to Houndbite and parked outside. “But it’ll still be bright for a bit. We can blame Barra for that.” Arya tutted at him. 

“Leave Barra alone,” she said as she got out of the car. “She’s had a very emotional few days, processing the break-up and everything.” 

Gendry locked the door and rolled his eyes. “We didn’t have to tell her,” he said. “She’s going to interrogate me about you every time I see her.” 

“I think I’d rather report to Barra than Sansa,” Arya joked. “Sisters are just like that.” 

-

The sun had just about disappeared when they reached the roof, but Arya’s attention was drawn away from the sunset when she noticed that the table and chairs were still here, along with one of Sandor’s many old record players, sitting atop a stack of crates. There was a new flower in the beer bottle, though, some little golden thing. Gendry watched Arya move to the table and set the pizza box down. 

“They didn’t have any coldsnaps,” he said, shuffling his feet awkwardly as Arya touched the little golden bell-shaped flower and looked back at him. “I know you like those.” Arya nodded. 

“I like all sorts of flowers,” she said quietly. Gendry smiled. 

“Oh, good,” he said. “I had to steal it from that florist down the road and this was the easiest one to grab without a chance of getting caught. Not that they would have cared. They’re alright blokes, the guys that run it.” He trailed off as Arya sat down and opened up the pizza. 

“How’d you get all of this set up?” she asked. Gendry sat down and grabbed a slice. 

“Lunch break,” he explained before taking a bite. He chewed and swallowed. “You were busy helping some teenagers expand their taste beyond Aegon Targaryen.” Arya blinked at him. 

“You set this all up at lunchtime?” she clarified. “Before we’d even spoken properly?” He shrugged sheepishly and smiled, his face lit up golden by the last of the sunset. 

“Like I said, I’m trying to be less of a pessimist.” 

-

They finished their supper under the dusky sky, paired perfectly with a couple of cool-but-not-quite-cold beers from the boys’ rooftop stash. Arya stood up first, moving to the record player. “What are we listening to?” She asked as she placed the needle down carefully and a slow and familiar guitar melody rang out. 

“Brotherhood’s greatest hits,” Gendry said. “Safe option, I know, but it’s got all the classics.” 

“It’s perfect,” Arya said. She bobbed her head along to the song and reached out a hand to him. “You know what these guys are great for?” 

“What?” Gendry asked apprehensively, accepting her hand and allowing her to tug him out of his seat. Arya guided his other hand to her waist and brought her own up to his shoulder. 

“Dancing,” she grinned, leading him carefully backwards for a couple steps. He wasn’t good at the slow dancing - he wasn’t really able to keep track of where his feet should be. But when the rhythm sped up and the music suited a little less control, Arya saw his shoulders relax slightly. She liked the way he grinned when she shook her hair out and she loved the way he put his hands on her hips when she swayed closer to him and put her hands on his shoulders. He even twirled her a couple of times, surprising her so much at first that she almost lost her balance.

Eventually, their dancing gave way to a half-hearted sway as they stood with their arms around each other, exchanging kisses. The stars were out completely by the time the disc reached “My Featherbed”, but when Gendry broke away to speak as the song faded out, it wasn’t to start another disagreement about genre. 

“Do you want to come over?” he breathed, his forehead still against hers. She nodded.

-

She was beneath him on his bed, both of their t-shirts discarded on the floor as he kissed her neck. It was the way his lips brushed her collarbone that did it - so gently, as if he was trying to trace it. “Fuck,” Arya said sharply, shoving him off of her and clasping a hand to her mouth. Gendry blinked at her, confused. He looked beautifully disheveled, his hair sticking up funny and his lips rather pink. “I forgot,” she said, standing up to rifle through her bag. Gendry watched her curiously as she pulled the sketchbook from her bag. His eyes fell to her hands and he blanched. 

“Where did you find that?” He breathed. “I’ve been looking for days. I thought I’d left it somewhere in the store or on a train or… I had no idea where, honestly.” Arya swallowed. 

“I might have accidentally stolen it,” she admitted. “I thought I was picking up my notebook but, um, this is not my notebook.” His eyes glanced from the book to her face and back. 

“Did you -,” he started, and she nodded. Gendry exhaled, running a hand through his hair nervously. Arya climbed back onto the bed and flipped the sketchbook open. “I’m sorry if it seems as if I’m some sort of stalker. Or worse, using you to _create my best work_ or whatever.” Arya laughed loudly at the way his tone so perfectly captured Aegon’s. She shoved his shoulder as she flipped the page. 

“Gendry, they’re beautiful,” she said seriously. He was frowning at the sketches in front of him. 

“I had trouble capturing you,” he said quietly. “That’s what I told myself when I realized I wanted to draw you all the time.” He flipped through a few more, frowning still. “I liked them, but none of them felt breathtaking enough to be you. So I just kept trying.” Arya stared at him, his brow furrowed as he looked at a detailed sketch of her lips. She had thought all of his versions of her had been too beautiful, but Gendry seemed convinced of the opposite. He turned to her and brought his thumb up to her bottom lip, looking briefly between it and his pencil lines. “Still need to practice, I guess.” Arya wanted to respond, but she liked the feeling of his fingers on her lips too much, so instead she let her eyes flutter shut as he drew his thumb along her bottom lip and ran his index finger up her jawline, as if hoping to commit it to memory. He traced her brow and the slope of her nose and her cheekbones before finally bringing his lips back to hers. 

-

Gendry blushed as Arya looked through the sketchbook, their shoulders knocking against each other. “You like my mouth,” she observed, glancing at him. He hummed in agreement, swallowing. “And my legs,” she added, grinning as she turned to a page populated by a sketch that made her legs look far longer than they felt.

“Look,” Gendry said. “You’re distracting to work with. I can’t focus on drawing still lifes when you’re dangling your legs over the counter.” Arya raised an eyebrow. 

“Not all of these were done at work,” she said, nodding at one he had clearly drawn from memory, her hair falling over her bare shoulders at the White Fawn show. Gendry sighed, defeated. 

“Alright, I guess you’re distracting even when you’re not dangling your legs in front of me,” he said. “Happy?” She grinned and leaned over to kiss him again. 

“Very.” 

-

“Alright, hit me,” Arya said, settling down into an old deck chair and accepting a beer from Gendry. It was Friday night and Aegon Targaryen’s debut album had finally been released. She knew that Lommy would want her honest thoughts. 

“No Truth tonight,” Lommy said.There was a little beeping noise and he grinned, having successfully connected his phone to the tiny speaker at his feet. “New game.” Gendry huffed impatiently to Arya’s left. “We’re going to listen to the album and -,”

“Nope,” Gendry cut in. “Not happening. No.” Hot Pie laughed at the reaction and even Arya cracked a smile at how little Gendry wanted to hear Aegon’s record.

“Hey, no, it’ll be fun,” Lommy protested. “We’ll listen to the album and Arya has to tell us if the songs are about her or not.” Gendry snorted. 

“He told her he hardly wrote anything else on the album,” Gendry said dismissively. “His team probably wrote the rest of the songs about some vague, faceless girl that any vulnerable teenager could project themself onto.” The other boys snorted, but Arya was almost nervous now. What if Aegon _had_ written another song about her? He hadn’t acknowledged her article beyond liking a tweet that said it was unfortunate that Arya felt the need to make the details of their break-up so public, though it was well within her right to have feelings (this was relayed to Arya and Gendry through Barra, who - despite no longer being on Team Aegon - still kept a keen eye on all of his social media channels). In short, Arya had no idea what to expect from the album. 

-

The opening track was “Arya, Please”, which Gendry insisted they skip. He claimed that he had heard it enough for one lifetime, which Arya thought was rather dramatic considering it hadn’t ruined his first name, perhaps forever. 

The next three songs were generic, upbeat pop tunes about parties and summertime and pretty girls. Lommy nodded along to the third track. “This one sort of slaps,” he said. Arya grimaced and shook her head. 

The fifth track was about believing in himself, and included a line about never giving up on his dreams that made Gendry throw his head back and groan. “He definitely wrote that line,” Arya observed. “The chorus maybe not, but that verse is all Aegon.” 

Another vague, forgettable song about a party followed, and then a painful slow song about a girl he wanted back. It carried the same themes as “Arya, Please”, but none of the specifics, making Arya confident that a producer had put it together in hopes of it sounding authentic. The penultimate song on the album was a questionable collaboration with a lo-fi hip hop artist that only Hot Pie had heard of. Arya felt good - she was almost out of the woods. 

“Alright, last one,” Lommy announced. 

“Thank the gods,” Gendry muttered into his beer bottle. 

“It’s called… “My Birthday”. Sounds personal.” Lommy wiggled his eyebrows and Arya froze. 

“Lommy, let’s skip this -,” she started, but Aegon’s voice sang over her, making her wish she could disappear. The lyrics weren't about his birthday - they were about her body and her lips and her smile and her _innocence_. She gagged dramatically when he called her ‘pure’, refusing to look at Gendry even though she could tell that he was watching her. 

“What happened on his birthday?” Hot Pie asked after the second chorus, watching Arya make a face as Aegon described how safe they were in each other’s arms. “When’s his birthday?” 

“January twenty-third,” Lommy said quickly. Gendry shot him a look of disapproval for providing the answer without even having to think about it. “What? I had to know his star sign.” Gendry rolled his eyes and looked back at Arya as the song wrapped up.

“At least he doesn’t say your name in this one,” Gendry said. 

“Yeah,” Arya laughed dryly. “Just tells the whole world that I lost my virginity to a guy who’s trying to rhyme ‘touch’ with its own part participle.” The corner of Gendry’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t look particularly amused.

“At least it’s the last track,” Hot Pie offered. “No one’s going to actually make it all the way through the album, it’s awful.” 

“It’s _fine_ ,” Lommy said defensively. “Not great, but hardly awful.” Arya ignored him, still looking at Gendry. He seemed to be searching for the words. 

“I mean, on the bright side, he looks like a total shithead now,” Gendry said, scratching his neck. “Like, even more than he did before. Releasing a song about you just days after you wrote a whole piece detailing how “Arya, Please” basically ruined your life? It’s a risky move.” Arya couldn’t help but return the smile he gave her. 

“You’re right,” she said. “He’s sort of shot himself in the foot there.” 

“I’d say you’re the one who did the shooting, Arya,” Hot Pie said. “Justifiably, though!” He held his hands up as both Arya and Gendry shot him a glare.

“Arya. Truth -,” Lommy said seriously. Gendry groaned quietly. “Would you describe the night of January twenty-third as _the purest sort of pleasure_ , as Aegon so poetically puts it?” Gendry looked like he was about to threaten Lommy, but Arya held up a hand. 

“Because I am legally required to answer this honestly, per the rules of Truth,” she said, enjoying the smile she got from Hot Pie, the excitement evident on Lommy’s face, and the way Gendry looked both annoyed and apprehensive. “No. It took him a few more attempts to get me there.” Lommy howled with laughter and even Gendry snorted, though Arya could tell that the image of her and Aegon together was not his favourite topic. 

“So... you faked it?” Hot Pie chuckled. Arya sipped her beer and shrugged. 

“It was his birthday,” she said. “I wasn’t going to let him spend his birthday thinking he was bad in bed.” 

“Should’ve,” Gendry grunted. Arya grinned.

-

Arya tried to sneak Gendry upstairs without Arianne or Meera noticing, but they both greeted him loudly from the kitchen. There were other voices in there, too, and Arya was almost certain that she heard Ned Dayne ask Arianne if things had worked out between Arya and “the music store guy”. 

“Is that what you call me?” Gendry laughed as Arya shushed him and led him up the stairs, not wanting to bother with introductions just now. 

Her room was neater than usual, though her bed wasn’t properly made. She smoothed out the duvet hastily and sat on the bed, watching Gendry look around. He nodded at her band posters and leaned down to scan the records in her collection. “I know I don’t need to tell you this,” he started, and she expected some comment about the albums she owned, “but you’re allowed to tell Lommy to fuck off when he gets too nosy.” Arya laughed, surprised. 

“I know that,” she said. “I like watching you react when I talk about Aegon, though. It’s sort of fun.” 

“React?” Gendry said, standing up properly and shaking his head. “I don’t react.” Arya raised an eyebrow and stood up. 

“You’re doing it right now,” she said as she moved to him. “Your nostrils sort of flare and your ears go all pink.” She touched the tip of one of his ears, making the rest of his face grow even redder. “It’s like you’re jealous or something,” she teased. Gendry made a little huffing noise as Arya drew her hand down to his jaw. 

“I’m not jealous,” he scoffed, sounding rather sure of himself. “You just deserve a lot better than him.” 

“Yeah?” She asked. She was going to poke fun at him a little more, draw attention to the way he always scowled when anyone said Aegon’s name, but she didn’t get a chance. Gendry had leaned down to kiss her and she found herself backing up, tugging him with her towards the bed. 

-

Alright, so maybe Arya had been naïve. She had thought that from a purely physical standpoint, Aegon was a rather good boyfriend - fun, eager, and always making sure to tell her how good she looked naked. He was not perfect by any means, Arya figured, but he was _good_ , right? 

The little smile on Gendry’s face told Arya that he was aware that she now had a proper, definitive answer to Lommy’s question about Aegon being the best she’d ever had. 

( _No._ )

“Hope your walls aren’t too thin,” he observed, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Your friends might have heard you.” 

“You’re rather smug,” Arya said, turning onto her side so that she could get a better look at him. He traced his thumb down her spine and his expression changed to something rather delicate as he ran his gaze down her naked body. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, meeting her eyes again. 

“Gendry,” she asked quietly, “do you ever… Like, at school, do you ever draw people, um, naked?” She felt stupid for blushing, especially considering their current state, not to mention all of the places Gendry’s hands and mouth had just been. His eyes had gone wide at her words and he opened and closed his mouth twice before answering. All of the smugness in his face was gone now, having given way to a dreamy sort of shock. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice strained. He cleared his throat. “We have models come in sometimes, yeah.” 

“Models,” Arya swallowed, feeling a bit silly. 

“Most of them are old enough to be my mum or dad,” Gendry said. “It’s alright, but it’s a little… weird, you know?” His eyes fell down to her torso. “I’ve never drawn someone like you. Not like that.” 

“Would you?” She breathed. “I mean, if you wanted to one day.” Gendry nodded, staring at her with an almost dazed expression. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want to.” His voice was low and rough and sent a tingle through Arya’s body. Her jokes about being his muse and making him famous got lost in her throat - she chose instead to bring her lips back to his and move to sit astride his waist. He looked at her like she was a work of art.

She decided that evening that she didn’t mind the words “Arya” and “please” said in succession so much when they came from Gendry’s lips, quiet and desperate and only for her to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...... most good albums come with a bonus track right?


	8. bonus track

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i just selfishly wanted to include a couple stupid snippets about parental meeting and some other stuff. this could have been longer or shorter or more cohesive but uhh it is what it is i suppose x 
> 
> gendry's work is [something kind of like this](https://www.instagram.com/lane.draws/)
> 
> oh also this is gendry's pov just fyi

The first day Gendry had met Arya Stark, he had been in a better mood than usual. He had been forced to come into work on his day off, sure, but he’d also made Lommy promise to cover his next overnight inventory shift - the most boring part of working retail. The promise of getting out of doing inventory was enough to make his day, which only improved when a pretty customer had complimented his artwork. 

Of course, the pretty customer turned out to be a pretty coworker who would eventually become (after a few months of complications) his girlfriend. Which is why Gendry told Lommy not to worry about covering his inventory shift, and how he ended up with his bare back against the dusty record shelves of Houndbite Records’ storage room at a quarter to midnight. 

He had done all of the inventory counting meticulously over the past week, leaving Arya only a few columns on the directory spreadsheet to fill out as he double checked the jazz section. 

They were done before by eleven, but their shift didn’t end until one, leaving them loads of time to spare. 

“He’d kill us if he knew we were doing this,” Arya smiled against Gendry’s lips before kissing him again. The ‘he’ in question was Sandor, but Gendry really didn’t care what Sandor would do _if_ he caught them - the man was a heavy sleeper and Gendry was certain that he wouldn’t come down to check on them. Besides, they were good employees most of the time and it wasn’t as if they were going to make a habit of hooking up in the store. 

This was a one-time thing. A one-time thing that he was determined to make the most of - so he did. 

-

“Truth time,” Lommy said, and Gendry knew what was coming, “Did you two fuck in the back room?” Gendry had expected the inquisition, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. What he did with Arya was no one’s business but he and Arya’s. 

“Yep,” Arya said cheerfully. Gendry shook his head at her. 

“Enough nosing,” he said to Lommy, who ignored him and pressed Arya. 

“And? Better than usual? Same old?” he grinned. “Or was it weird -,” 

“Hey,” Gendry said, annoyed. “What does he mean ‘better than usual’?” He looked at Arya, who shrugged. 

“Lommy and I talk,” she said. 

“It’s all _very_ complimentary, _Big Dog_ ,” Lommy insisted, winking at Gendry as he tossed him another beer. 

-

It’s not that he didn’t want to meet Arya’s parents. Really, Gendry was sure they were nice enough people, but meeting her incredibly rich and important parents at some stuffy formal dinner was hardly an ideal situation for him to make a good first impression. He knew his suit would stand out as the cheapest one in the room, though Arya’s positive reaction to it had seemed quite genuine when he picked her up. 

“Hope it’s okay that I didn’t wear a tie,” he said as they made their way to the swanky golf club that was playing host to whatever event he had agreed to escort Arya to. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“I told you, it’s a cocktail party, not some black tie event. You look fine,” she glanced over at him. “Better than fine. I like the open collar look.” 

Arya looked stunning in her little black dress and sheer tights, her hair freshly cut just below her chin. The stud in her nose contrasted nicely with the look. Not for the first time, he felt a very brief wave of fellowship with Aegon Targaryen – sure, the guy was a jackass, but Gendry was hardly in a position to judge anyone who was a total fool for Arya Stark. 

“What is this thing again?” Gendry asked. He had blindly accepted Arya’s invite because (see above) he wasn’t one to say no to her, especially when she had stuck her bottom lip out and insisted she’d have no fun without him there. “Your dad’s retiring?” Arya shrugged. 

“Sort of, yeah. I think he’s just going to be a chairman of some board now or something,” she said vaguely. “My mum just likes any excuse to throw a party, to be honest.” 

-

Did she ever. Gendry had never been in a room so fancy, not even when he was forced to share his work at the school art showcases. He could just about taste the money that seemed to ooze off of the crowd. 

He recognized Sansa, chatting with two fellow redheads who he assumed were Arya’s little brothers. A part of Gendry was relieved that Arya’s older brothers were not in town. Meera, Arya’s roommate, was standing nearby them, talking to a blonde guy that Gendry was pretty sure worked behind the bar at The Crossroads. 

“Dad’s over at the bar, but let’s not say hi just now,” Arya said, linking her arm through Gendry’s. “He’s with his friend who always tells me what a beautiful young woman I’ve grown into while staring at my chest.” She made a face as Gendry allowed her to guide him towards her siblings. 

-

Sansa was more polite than she had been during their previous interactions. Gendry suspected that it mostly due to her recent dismissal of Aegon as a suitable boy for Arya, but the lack of soy milk in his hair likely helped as well. 

Bran and Rickon seemed utterly disinterested in the fact that he was dating their sister, and instead insisted that he help settle their debate about whether punk or new wave was more influential on modern alternative music. 

“Dad and Robert are coming over,” Sansa said, and Arya stood up straight. 

“I promise he’ll like you,” she said, and they turned to face Mr. Stark. “Hi, Dad,” Arya grinned, squeezing Gendry’s hand. Gendry froze.

“Dad?” he said, as Robert Baratheon’s eyebrows shot upwards. 

“Gendry!” He boomed. “Son, what are you doing here?” He glanced between Arya and Gendry and his eyes lit up. 

“ _Dad?_ ” Arya repeated, glancing up at Gendry. “What?” 

“Um,” Gendry frowned. “Arya, this is my dad, Robert -,”

“She already knows me,” Robert scoffed, waving his hand. “I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you, boy.”

“Of course,” Gendry said. It wasn’t a particularly impressive feat, considering Robert had only shown up in Gendry’s life in the middle of his teenage years. Ned Stark was glancing between Robert and Gendry, looking both bemused and slightly concerned. 

“Dad,” Arya said. “This is Gendry, my boyfriend.” Gendry stuck his hand out and Ned shook it with a polite smile. “And, apparently, Robert Baratheon’s son.” She shot Gendry a subtle glare before smiling at her father again. 

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Gendry said, and Robert guffawed. 

“ _Sir!_ ” he echoed. “Don’t be calling him sir, Gendry. Ned will do.” Gendry could tell that Robert had been drinking. “Can you believe it, Ned? Look at the two of them. He is the spitting image of me, isn’t he?”

“When you were a tad fitter, yes,” Ned agreed. Gendry felt rather uncomfortable with the way his father was grinning at himself and Arya. He hadn’t seen his dad in months, and they barely interacted beyond Robert’s desperate attempts to throw money at Gendry or Gendry accidentally running into the man while dropping Barra off. Now his dad was acting as though this was nothing but a funny coincidence as his eyes raked over Arya’s dress.

Arya seemed to dislike Robert’s excited smile, too, because she linked her arm through Gendry’s and said that she had just spotted her mother outside. 

-

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad was Robert Baratheon?” Arya spat when they reached the patio, rounding on Gendry. 

She had let him complain about his dad on many occasions, carding her hands through his hair as he grumbled about Robert’s latest feeble gesture. He had never felt the need to specify who his dad was, though - he’d had no inkling that their dads just happened to be best friends. 

“I didn’t realize you _knew_ him,” Gendry shot back. “Does it matter?” 

“No! Of course not,” Arya said. “It’s just… he’s…,” 

“Awful,” Gendry finished for her. She gave him an apologetic smile. 

“He’s not always so bad,” Arya offered, “He can be sort of fun sometimes, if you get drunk enough.” Gendry scowled. 

“He looks at you too closely,” he said. “I don’t like it.” Arya snorted. 

“Join the club,” she laughed and then she sighed. “You’ve got his eyes and his jawline, but otherwise I don’t think you’re all that alike.” 

“Hope not,” Gendry said flatly. 

“You’re far more miserable than he is,” Arya teased. She put her hands on his cheeks and smiled. “No laugh lines on this face. And no illegitimate children that you’ll ignore for the next decade, right?” Gendry couldn’t help but smile. 

“Promise,” he said, and she brought her lips to his firmly. He savoured the moment, knowing that they would eventually have to go back inside and he would be forced to interact with Robert again. 

Arya pressed her body flush against his and he deepened the kiss, cupping her face in his hands. He felt his surprise and annoyance over Robert’s presence melt away. It didn’t matter that his dad was a dick, at least not right now. Arya didn’t care, so why should he? He found himself breaking away from her briefly to grin down at her. Before his lips could find hers again, though, there was a polite little cough and they jumped apart, turning to see a handsome red haired woman looking at them with raised eyebrows. 

“Arya,” she said seriously, and Gendry’s suspicions were all but confirmed. 

“Mum!” Arya said, “Hi!” 

“Hello,” her mother said, looking between them. “Your father mentioned that you two were looking for me.” 

“We were,” Arya nodded, sounding far less flustered than Gendry felt. “This is Gendry. Gendry, this is my mum.” Catelyn’s handshake was firm and brief. 

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Stark,” Gendry said, meeting her eye and praying that she would magically forget that she had just seen him exchanging saliva with her daughter.

“Call me Catelyn,” she said, giving him an odd look. “I hear you’re one of Robert’s.” 

“Er,” Gendry said, glancing at Arya as he scratched the back of his head. “Technically, yeah. We’re not very close.” 

“Ah,” Catelyn said before mercifully changing the subject. “Arya tells me you’re a graphic designer.” 

“Artist,” Arya corrected, but her mother waved her off. 

“I’m sure design will lead to some wonderful career opportunities,” Catelyn carried on politely. “Actually, a family friend inside was just telling me about their brand new investment start-up and how they’ll need all sorts of branding and marketing decisions to be made. I’ll make sure to introduce you!” 

“Wow, that sounds interesting,” Gendry said, smiling politely and ignoring Arya’s blatant eyeroll. He knew as well as she did that working with people who ran an ‘investment startup’ was not up his alley, but between the kissing and the fact that his father was a notorious prick, feigning interest in Catelyn’s suggestion seemed like Gendry’s best course of action. 

A shout from inside alerted them to the fact that Rickon had spilled a drink on Sansa’s dress, and Gendry was saved from asking any more about Catelyn’s “opportunity”. 

-

It was odd, seeing Robert in such a jovial mood. He was in his element, Gendry supposed, surrounded by alcohol and fellow rich folk. Before tonight, the best that Gendry saw of Robert was in the man’s desperation to salvage some goodwill from his estranged children, attempting to buy their love through gifts and cars and school fees. Gendry watched as Robert guffawed at a joke someone at the bar had shared and tap his foot along to the bland, barely-there music that echoed through the country club’s banquet hall. He couldn’t help but wonder whether this was the sort of music Robert liked - forgettable, watered-down pop. He supposed he could ask his father what he liked listening to, but that felt all too personal. 

“Gendry,” Ned Stark greeted him, appearing at his side and glancing quickly over at Robert. “Arya’s abandoned you I see.” 

“She’s been drafted into helping Sansa with her stained dress,” Gendry explained. Arya had reluctantly joined her mother and sister in the bathroom as Rickon searched for a way to make himself scarce for when Sansa returned. 

“Ah, that’s good of her,” Ned laughed. “She’s a kind girl.” Gendry got a sense of where he was going with this. “Far more sensitive than she lets on.” 

“She is,” Gendry agreed, waiting for the switch in tone that was surely imminent. “She’s wonderful.” 

“You know,” Ned started. There it was. “She seems very fond of you, Gendry.” Gendry swallowed and nodded. 

“I’m very fond of her, too, Mr. Stark,” he said. 

“Yes, well, so was that Targaryen boy,” Ned said seriously. “It’s easy to be fond of Arya. I just hope you respect her feelings more than he managed to, especially if you two break-up.” He spoke bluntly, not bothering to soften his words. 

“Of course,” Gendry said. “I promise that if she dumps me, I won’t go painting murals of her across King’s Landing.” There was a brief pause before Ned let out a laugh.

“I hope not,” he chuckled. “Your father never mentioned you had a sense of humour, Gendry.” Gendry froze and looked at Ned. 

“He talks about me?” 

“Sometimes,” Ned grinned. “Moans about how you won’t forgive him even though he’s offered to pay for everything.” He shook his head. “You really piss him off sometimes.” Gendry was pleased to see that Ned was still smiling. 

“Glad to hear it,” Gendry smiled. 

“Don’t worry about being his son, by the way,” Ned said. He looked at Robert by the bar, who glanced over and grinned at the pair. “I love the man, but I know Arya would never be interested in anyone too similar to Robert.” 

“Hey!” A voice from behind them made them both jump. “Can you two not go around talking about me behind my back?” Arya frowned at both Gendry and her father. 

“How’s Sansa’s dress?” Ned asked. Arya rolled her eyes. 

“I think she’ll survive,” she said. “The dress is black, you can barely see the wet patch.” Gendry and Ned both looked past her to see Sansa exiting the women’s toilets looking perfectly pristine, despite the deep anxiety that crossed her face. “Dad, I hope you weren’t being weird. I’m a grown woman and I don’t need you trying to scare off my boyfriend.” She didn’t sound serious, but there was a trace of genuine annoyance in her voice. “I wrote a whole essay about how tired I was of being told how to feel, I really don’t have the energy to write another one.” Ned put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her. 

“Alright, I’ll lecture him another time,” he said with a smile, winking at Gendry as Arya rolled her eyes. 

-

“They were fine, right?” Arya asked on the way home. “I know my mother is weird about career stuff and kept trying to network on your behalf, but -,”

“Arya,” Gendry said, pulling up to a stoplight at one of Flea Bottom’s major intersections. “They were very nice. Way nicer than I thought they’d be, considering I’m a broke artist who lives in this place. And considering my dad is, well, who he is.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re Robert Baratheon’s kid,” Arya said, shaking her head. “Do Lommy and Hot Pie know this?”

“Of course. Lommy got it out of me during a game of Truth ages ago,” Gendry said, pulling up to park in front of the store. “Teased me about it for weeks. Probably going to get the same treatment for showing up on the rooftop in a suit.” 

-

“Oh, look at Mr. Swanky over here,” Lommy cooed as soon as Gendry and Arya joined them. 

“Very posh, Gendry,” Hot Pie said approvingly. “You look properly sharp. Did they buy it?”

“They did,” Arya said, relaxing into a chair and handing Gendry one of the beers at Lommy’s feet. “Both my mum and dad thought he was perfectly acceptable.” Gendry did a mock bow before settling in beside Arya and cracking open his drink. 

“Good,” Lommy said. “Now, onto more important news - Arya, you are officially a matchmaker!” He held his phone out to Arya, and Gendry leaned over to see the paparazzi shots of up-and-coming rapper Grey Worm out and about with his rumoured girlfriend, fashion blogger Missandei. The two were walking hand-in-hand and smiling widely. 

“Hey,” Gendry said cautiously. “I thought we had all learned not to trust the tabloids.” Arya scoffed and shoved him lightly. 

“Stop being so miserable. They’re clearly together,” she laughed. “Though I might ask him if I can vet any songs he writes about her before they get released.” 

-

“So,” Arya said, not looking up or pausing the rhythm of her price tag gun. “When are you going to draw me?” Gendry looked around the store. A couple was near the front, flipping through the new releases. Another customer was at the listening booth, nodding along to Sandor’s Record of the Week as they held the headphones to their ears. 

“I’ve drawn you loads of times,” Gendry said, keeping his voice down. 

“But always with my clothes on,” Arya mused, smiling as she carried on with her task. She didn’t have to look up to know that Gendry’s cheeks had gone red. 

“Well I can’t exactly do it now, can I?” he said through gritted teeth. Arya hummed, reluctantly considering this reality. 

“How about this afternoon?” She asked. “I’ve got nothing to do after my shift ends.” She finally looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. 

Gendry had seen Arya naked many times, but the thought of attempting to recreate that view on paper felt at once impossible and thrilling. He nodded blankly, unable to stop himself from imagining her laid across his couch, or perched on the end of his bed with a foot tucked underneath her. He tried to remember the poses the models sat in when his professors brought them in - none of those positions had seemed in any way appealing at the time, but he was certain that Arya could change his opinion on them. Arya’s tutting roused him from his mental planning. 

“Stop picturing me naked,” she scolded quietly before grinning. “We’re at work!” 

-

Arya rolled her eyes as Gendry delicately tilted her chin upwards. He had sat her against a cushion on his couch, one of her legs stretched out, the other bent at the knee. It was the comfiest pose, he figured, and he wasn’t certain how long it would take to capture her image.

“Who knew you were a perfectionist about this?” she teased, though she blushed as he tucked her hair behind her ear so that her jaw was properly visible. Gendry kissed her cheek and traced his hand up her bare thigh. 

“You know what they say about life and art,” Gendry smiled, glancing down her body and enjoying the way the redness in her cheeks deepened, though she rolled her eyes at him again as he went to his stool. 

-

It was easier to concentrate on his page than he had expected. Aside from Arya occasionally breaking her pose to look over at him and the odd moment in which he paused to just admire his view, Gendry found the process rather smooth. It was certainly easier than any of the previous life drawings he had done at school. The lines of Arya’s legs and arms and back and jaw came to him without hesitation. Drawing her without clothes made every shadow he added with his slab of charcoal feel intimate - the underside of her breast, her pelvis, the back of her calf. He smudged his finger lightly along her face to highlight her sharp cheekbone and glanced up at the real Arya to see her watching him carefully. 

“What?” he asked, not bothering to request that she return to the original pose. He had her face memorized by now anyway. 

“You’re beautiful,” she shrugged. Gendry laughed lightly, looking at her, naked and practically glowing, her unfinished image on his paper probably the prettiest thing he has ever created.

“Alright,” he said with a shake of his head. He could feel her eyes on him as he continued to touch up the drawing, her shoulders slowly relaxing as time passed. 

“Can I see it?” she asked after a silent half hour. Gendry cocked his head at his work and nodded. It was good enough for now - he could always go back later and perfect a few questionable shadows and creases. Arya was at his shoulder in a flash, looking down at his page with a nervous, short laugh. “Oh.” 

“What?” Gendry asked. “It’s not done - I have to fix your foot I think.” Her brow was furrowed as she looked between him and the drawing.

“You always make me so pretty,” she laughed, still sounding sort of unsure of herself. Gendry ran a hand down her bare torso, leaving a little smudge of charcoal in the wake of his thumb. From his seat on his stool, he looked up at her and brought his head to her sternum, briefly brushing his lips against her abdomen. 

“It’s sort of hard to avoid,” he said. After hours of tracing her body with a pencil and graphite, he spent the evening doing the same with his hands and his lips. 

No matter how trite the lyrics to “Arya, Please” were and no matter how deeply grating the singer was as a person, it was truly hard to blame Aegon Targaryen for not being able to get over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still working on other things (slowly) i love you all xxxx


End file.
